


Scarlet Fever

by Nadare



Category: One Piece
Genre: Bisexuality, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Character Turned Into Vampire, F/M, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Seriously Still Working on This, Transformation, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2018-10-11 23:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10476894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadare/pseuds/Nadare
Summary: A beautiful woman and a few cocktails result in a one-night stand, which Sanji couldn't be happier about. That is, until unforeseen consequences come to light.





	1. Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If anything, the undefined monsters at his heels were gaining on him, their eyes glowing eerily in the blackness.

\----------I did create the banner, but the artwork belongs to SHE:BA. Their work is what half inspired this story though so full credit where it's due. ---------

_A/N: This is what happens when you watch “1p” and “Dracula” in the same evening. Damn you, Frank Langella, for making vampires look so damn good.  
_

_-Set just after the Fishman Island arc-_

_\----------------------------------------_

**_“Scarlet Fever”_ **

_Chapter One: Bite_

Sanji sat down at the hotel bar, the bartender busy pulling a draft beer, serving it to a waiting customer before approaching Sanji with a friendly smile.

“What’ll you have?” Scrutinizing the range of colorful liquor bottles covering the wall behind the bar, Sanji found he couldn’t decide.

“Surprise me.” The bartender raised an eyebrow but started making a cocktail just the same.

“You’re the second one to tell me that tonight.”

“Oh, who’s the first?” He pointed to a table in the corner and Sanji turned his head, swearing the world slowed for an instant. Without a doubt, she was the most beautiful woman Sanji had ever seen. After Nami and Robin, of course. Her skin was milky white, long silky black hair cascading down her shoulders and back. She stirred from her reverie, light blue eyes settling on Sanji after scanning the bar area. One side of her dainty mouth, lips bright red from lipstick, curved upwards.

She raised a hand, crooking one finger, beckoning him. The bartender placed a drink before him, saying something, but Sanji couldn’t hear him. He mutely grabbed the glass, putting down some denomination of berry, feeling like he was walking on air as he approached her. Her curvy figure filled out her short black dress perfectly.

“Sex on the beach?” Sanji’s heart stuttered in his chest at the sultry voice, wondering why she was propositioning a complete stranger.

Her eyes twinkled as she laughed, the airy sound beautiful. “Your cocktail, silly.” His pulse lowered immediately and Sanji felt his face grow hot.

“Right, right.”

“Sit if you like, I’d enjoy the company,” the woman said, Sanji helpless but to obey as he sat across from her. He took a sip of his cocktail, the various sweet fruit juices dominating his taste buds, the burn of the vodka barely noticeable.

Sanji tipped his glass in thanks to the bartender who nodded appreciatively. “What’s the name of my lovely companion?”

The woman’s half-smile turned into a full one, white teeth showing for a moment. “Call me Carmilla. You are?” It was the perfect name for such a unique woman and Sanji echoed her wide smile unconsciously.

“Sanji. I can’t believe you’re drinking alone.”

“My solitude is not of my own choice.” Sanji sensed Carmilla didn’t want to say anything more on the subject, perhaps she’d had a bad break-up recently. He was willing to respect her wishes, not pressing for more information. “Are you here on your own?”

He took a sip of his drink, surreptitiously surveying the bar inhabitants for any telltale military uniforms. Seeing none, he lowered his glass. “I came with my crew.”

Carmilla’s gaze lit up and she moved to sit next to him, leaning towards Sanji. This close to her, Sanji could pick up her perfume, a subtle spicy floral blend that made his head spin pleasantly. “You’re a pirate?” Her voice was low, yet excited. “How fascinating. What a brave man to go against the world order itself.”

Sanji fiddled with his tie nervously, gratified and appreciative she thought so highly of him. “No more than anyone else does.”

Carmilla touched his arm, looking straight into his eyes, mesmerizing him. “I never could, I know that much. What did you do before serving on a ship?”

While Sanji thought her interest was deeply flattering, it felt like she was trying to avoid talking about herself. Luckily, he loved a mystery and Carmilla was proving very much to be one. “I was sous chef at a restaurant.”

She laughed lightly. “I live for food,” she confessed in a whisper, a thread of sadness in Carmilla’s voice. “You might even say it’s a vice.” Her petite figure told Sanji she had a measure of control, not overindulging in the habit.

“We all have our weaknesses,” Sanji said, laying a hand on the one touching his arm. Carmilla’s fingers were cold, likely from the chilly glass she’d been clutching, and Sanji took them in his own, hoping they’d warm up.

She winked at him playfully, not moving away from the bodily contact. “I think I can guess yours.” Sanji smiled, signaling the bartender for another drink, both for himself and Carmilla. He had a feeling they’d be here for a while.   

\--------------------------------              

“Would you like to go somewhere a bit more private?” The interest and passion involved in such an offer showed in her soft gaze, making a silent promise.

Sanji almost spilled his drink in shock, sure he was dreaming. He’d be a fool to turn Carmilla down. “Yes, please.” Was that too eager? Hell, he didn’t care. Better she know he was interested than not.

Sanji took his time admiring the soft curves of Carmilla’s body as he walked behind her. He was sure she was aware of his examination because Carmilla started walking slower, her hips rocking back and forth. She clearly took good care of herself, even if her pale skin implied she didn’t spend much time under the sun.

Carmilla pulled out a thin card from the small purse hanging off her arm, heading to the bank of elevators. Her long elegant finger pushed the button to call transportation forth, Carmilla’s eyes locked on Sanji when he came up beside her. He was shaking on the inside, unable to believe his windfall. He knew he usually came on too strong for many women, but this one appreciated his fervent nature.

With a soft chuckle, Carmilla stepped into the elevator that opened before her, reaching for Sanji’s arm and pulling him inside. They were alone in the elevator as the doors slid closed and Carmilla’s fingers danced their way up to Sanji’s neck, her nails lightly pressing against his chin.

“I’m very glad you were here tonight, Sanji. I needed someone,” she said boldly, seeming amused at Sanji’s dumbstruck expression. He struggled to remain passive, not wanting Carmilla to know her words had deeply affected the lower half of his body. She’d announced her intentions and only a complete idiot could’ve misinterpreted what she desired.

Her hand shifted onto Sanji’s cheek, the cool digits making him shiver. “Truly, I am lucky.”

He pressed his hand against hers, pulling it down to his chest, leaning down and kissing the back of her hand. “I feel the same way.”

“Then we are of one mind,” Carmilla replied, smiling as she pulled her hand away from Sanji. The elevator was suddenly too small, Sanji beginning to sweat, anxious to reach the fifth floor of the hotel. Given she had a card, she must have a room as well, and what they might do in it was making his stomach flutter in anticipation. When the doors opened, revealing the hallway, Sanji gestured for Carmilla to go first.

“Someone was raised well.” While that was debatable, coarse as Zeff had been, Sanji thought he would’ve liked the compliment. Carmilla stopped before the last room, slipping her key card into the lock, and holding open the door for Sanji. The room was plain but functional, the details going fuzzy as Carmilla slid past him. He’d lost count of how many drinks he downed in the bar downstairs and had to lean against the wall for a second to restore his balance.

“Are you well?” Sanji hoped he was, he really didn’t want to disappoint Carmilla with a lackluster performance. With the world swam back into focus, he nodded, surprised when Carmilla grabbed his collar. She all but threw him onto the queen sized bed, a fierce expression on her face, gaze smoldering, as if lit from within. Sanji couldn’t look away, transfixed by the otherworldly beauty Carmilla displayed.

“Shall we begin, Sanji-kun?” He couldn’t wait.   

\--------------------------------    

He came awake slowly, lying in utter darkness. The bed was soft underneath him, the covers warm, and Sanji rolled onto his side, reluctant to get up yet. Despite the rest he’d gotten, he was still tired, sorely tempted to go back to sleep. His head began pulsing painfully and Sanji knew it was a hangover. He’d drank too much last night.

Unlike a certain green-haired crewmate he knew, he wouldn’t let laziness control him. “Narcoleptic bastard,” Sanji muttered as he sat up, immediately regretting the decision when a painful spasm churned his guts. Overcome by a wave of nausea, Sanji rubbed at his forehead, wishing he’d practiced some restraint in regards to his drinking. They didn’t call it liquid courage for nothing. How many cocktails had he had?

Speaking of, he surveyed the hotel room, realizing in short order that he was alone, his companion from the previous evening nowhere to be found. The very thought of the woman- no, the drop dead gorgeous bombshell, made Sanji smile. Carmilla had been a breath of fresh air, flirting with a natural grace not many possessed. She’d seemed fascinated with him, her gaze never once looking elsewhere, Sanji only too happy to keep her entertained, regaling her with stories from his Baratie days, relishing the sound of her laughter.

When she’d suggested a more private location, Sanji almost wept with joy. Unfortunately, at that point, after downing one too many cocktails, he couldn’t remember what had happened once she pushed him down on the bed. They must have done something as Sanji’s current state of nudity could attest. Trusting he hadn’t ended up making a fool of himself, he stood up, running to the bathroom when the contents of his stomach started making an unwanted reappearance.

After flushing the toilet a few times, spiriting his sick elsewhere, he felt better even though he looked like hell warmed over in the mirror. There was a purple hickey on the side of his neck, showing how ardent and possessive Carmilla had been. Sanji considered it a parting gift, making no attempt to hide it as he began the process of seeking out his clothes. He collected them from the lamp, the floor, and the open nightstand drawer. The last location made him pause because he wondered why it was open in the first place.

Even with the rough abuse, they were only mildly wrinkled and given he didn’t have another set of clothes on hand, Sanji worked with what he had. He really wanted a shower, but not having planned to spend a night away from the crew, Sanji knew they would be worried about him. As soon as he stepped outside of the hotel, the sun stabbed at him, making his hangover worse. Squinting, holding a hand to his forehead to ward off the bright rays, Sanji slowly made his way to the shipyard.  

They’d docked the Sunny at an island called Kasei, needing to restock their supplies, cola in particular. Seeing the place he called home was a relief, both because he was even more exhausted than he initially thought and because he wanted to see his friends again. They’d all separated to make the task of restocking the ship easier. After he’d done his part, he’d gone straight to the nearest bar. He considered himself a pretty social person, but even the friendliest individual needed alone time every now and then.

“Sanji!” Grinning at Chopper as he enthusiastically waved over the Sunny’s railing, Sanji boarded the ship, a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. It was getting late in the day, the lunch hour long since over, and given his condition, Sanji decided he’d make dinner, then go to bed early.        

\--------------------------------                                       

It came to him in flashes. Carmilla’s lovely body laid bare in front of him, her dress puddled on the floor. Her hands clutching the back of his thighs as she leaned down, breath hot on him. The sharp jerk of arousal, Sanji gritting his teeth to keep control of himself, pressure building even as Carmilla moved above him, her long hair brushing his chest. The pleasant sting of her mouth on his neck, inflaming his passion again. Carmilla’s light laughter as she held his shoulders firmly, taking control of the situation.

He came awake with a jolt, his face hot. Sanji put his hands over it, wishing he could remember more of the encounter. Were it not for the hotel room he’d woken up in and the hickey, Sanji would have thought it was all a dream.

 

The first sign something was seriously wrong with him was in the kitchen, a few days later. Nami had graciously agreed to assist him with dinner, chopping up vegetables for a stir-fry. Sanji was tackling the protein side, breaking down a large cut of pork on the kitchen counter. A headache pulsed persistently near his forehead, Sanji doing his best to ignore it. The pain relievers Chopper had given him did nothing but make his stomach hurt so he had stopped taking them. His system was still excising their effect though and that too had to be endured along with a headache.

Nami cursed, the steady sound of chopping abruptly stopping. Sanji closed his eyes as a pleasant aroma filled the air, robust and fragrant all at once. He looked up, realizing the smell was close by. Wanting to find the source, he opened his eyes to see Nami looking flustered, holding her hand away from the cutting board, over the table edge. One of her fingertips seeped red, the blood dripping onto the floor.

She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Sanji-kun. I don’t think any got into the food.” Sanji should have been hovering over Nami’s hand, asking if she was all right, what he could do to make it better. However, it was taking all his willpower to remain where he was and not cross the room to approach her. The wonderful smell that had teased his nose, made his mouth water and caused his body to become so alert was Nami’s blood.

He was horrified his first instinct was to grab her hand and suck the wound. “Sanji-kun?” The sound of his name brought him out of it, Sanji taking a deep breath, refilling lungs that had been deprived of oxygen for a full minute.

Thoroughly disturbed, Sanji gave Nami was he hoped was a reassuring look. “I’ll fetch Chopper,” he said, leaving the kitchen before the navigator could ask more questions.

There was a first aid kit under the sink for just such occasions and Sanji had no reason for vacating the room so far as Nami knew. Realizing his hands were shaking, he walked to the back of the ship after sending Chopper to tend to Nami, wishing he could forget the scent of her blood. As soon as he was out of view of anyone, he leaned against the railing, slowly sliding down until he was sitting with his arms on top of his knees.

Pain erupted inside his mouth and Sanji pressed a hand to it, feeling something long against his fingers. Hanging a bit longer than usual, his canine teeth had become thin and tapered, the tips dangerously sharp. The word fangs flashed in Sanji’s mind and he shook his head, wondering when he’d fallen asleep. It was all too surreal.     

“What the hell is wrong with you, Cook?” Going still, Sanji looked in shock at Zoro who was sitting across from him, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. There was sleep crusted in the corner of his eye and he rubbed at it lazily. Shit. Just his luck Zoro had chosen to nap here of all places, he was the last person Sanji wanted to see right now. Unsure how long Zoro had been awake, he kept his hand over his mouth, hoping Zoro was too far away to make out any details.

“Nothing,” Sanji said, closing his mouth, turning away to look out at the sunset, the ache in his teeth an itch he couldn’t scratch.

“I wonder about that.” That was all the warning he got as Zoro was suddenly standing over him, one of his hands grabbing Sanji’s shoulder. Zoro hauled him upright, pushing Sanji against the railing, getting up in his face. A snarl ripped itself from Sanji’s throat and he froze, too dazed to move when Zoro touched his mouth, pushing his upper lip upward.

Zoro’s expression was carefully blank, interest clear in his eye as he leaned back, clutching Sanji’s shoulder, his grip growing tighter. “There’s a word for this,” he said casually, a look of amusement shifting his features. “What’s funny is on Kasei, there were rumors. I thought it was all superstitious bullshit.” Tired of being mocked, Sanji stomped on Zoro’s instep, forcing him to move back, Zoro hissing under his breath in pain.

Sanji glared, angry at the intrusion of privacy and that Zoro’s hand had started to smell good. He had no idea how close he came to getting bitten. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

Zoro chuckled, crossing his arms, arrogance written all over him. “Chopper then? It’s a bit out of his wheelhouse, isn’t it?”

“It can’t be what you think, it’s impossible.”

“Says the guy with fangs.” Hearing the word said out loud cooled his anger some because it was true, and Sanji hadn’t wanted to face it.

“What the hell am I going to do? I refuse to put the girls in danger because of my…issue.” His almost constant stomach ache during the last few days took on a whole new chilling meaning. Even the thought of what he needed was alternately scary and thrilling, his inner nature at odds with itself.

“It’s just blood, right? Take mine.” Sanji gaped openly in disbelief, unable to understand why Zoro would offer. He might bleed the most out of everyone in the crew, but there had to be a limit, didn’t there? He was acting as if it was normal to discover your crewmate was a vampire, not seeming bothered by the thought of a little bloodletting. Actually, to a swordsman, a cut or two wasn’t a big deal. Still, Zoro’s blasé attitude was weird.

“Don’t hold your breath, I’m not that desperate,” Sanji said, brushing past Zoro as he walked by him. He checked his mouth, finding his teeth were normal again. It was a relief to know it wasn’t a permanent change.

“Suit yourself,” Zoro replied, sounding like he didn’t give a damn either way. When Sanji was at the top of the stairs to the main deck, Zoro called out, “It was that woman, wasn’t it?”

“What?” He was so focused on the upcoming meal, he didn’t twig onto the fact they were still on the same subject. Zoro pointed to his neck and understanding what he was inferring, Sanji fumed, a hand rising to touch the hickey briefly.

“Carmilla would never d-“ Sanji went silent, loathe to admit that Zoro had a point. The changes had started soon after their encounter on Kasei, which meant Carmilla had been a…holy shit, he’d slept with a vampire. The question was why she had done this to him. Conceivably, it could have been an accident. After all, he didn’t know what such a process would entail.

He remembered thinking Carmilla had appeared very world-weary, then there was that comment she’d made about not liking solitude. Maybe others of her kind were rare. Carmilla might have been traveling in search of a companion to spend eternity with. Wait, was immortality part of the vampire package? Sanji supposed he wouldn’t know until enough time passed.

“Only you would fall into that kind of honey trap, Cook. You probably didn’t even question why she wanted you. Just happy to finally have some female attention, weren’t you?” The remark cut deep because Zoro was right. Even though he’d gotten better after Kamabakka Kingdom and could interact with women normally, Sanji had craved the touch of one like a dying man. Such a desire had possibly blinded him in regards to Carmilla and her intentions.

He’d been used. It hurt thinking such a thing, especially since he’d thought she honestly liked him. Sanji refused to consider the matter further, not responding to Zoro as he continued to the kitchen. Nami was likely bandaged up by now, and he had a meal to finish. Sanji would worry more about his condition later.

\--------------------------------

Thanks to Zoro, Sanji began going down a mental checklist of what myths were true. The biggest and most worrying was the effect of the sun. He’d been in and out of it multiple times, but prolonged exposure was another story. To prove he could do it, he spent a few hours fishing with Luffy and only came away from the experience with a headache and mild fatigue. So that was one symptom that had nothing to do with his bloodlust.

Experimentation found he could still eat and drink regular food, but it only curbed his hunger for a short time. Sanji could see himself in the mirror, garlic was no problem, and clearly, he could cross running water. It was only the urge to suck blood that was kicking his ass. Would he really be reduced to going to Zoro for it? He didn’t want to, yet the odds of Sanji lasting another day weren’t looking good.

Finally giving into need and curiosity, Sanji drained the blood from a package of raw meat into a drinking glass. “This is so gross,” he moaned to himself, sniffing the animal blood, wishing Carmilla was here to help him. It didn’t smell completely terrible, but it wasn’t fresh blood by any means.

Screwing up his courage, Sanji quickly drank it, then gagged as it came right back up his throat. It was too cold, too dead. When his stomach was finally empty, Sanji flopped down at the kitchen table, wrung out from the experience. Animal blood was definitely out of the running as a substitute.

“Give up yet?” Zoro asked, sticking his head into the kitchen for a moment. He must have been nearby to see the end of Sanji’s desperation move.

“Fuck you,” Sanji retorted, in no mood to deal with Zoro.

“I’m on night watch duty tonight if you change your mind.” His only response was flipping Zoro off, too tired to full out start a fight with him. That was the only good thing about all of this, Sanji was too preoccupied with his own problems to let much else bug him.

                                 

 

He slept fitfully, his dreams full of dark rolling shapes and a crimson horizon. Sanji kept running from it, but couldn’t seem to put any distance between him and the nightmarish landscape. In his gut, he knew fleeing wouldn’t accomplish anything. If anything, the undefined monsters at his heels were gaining on him, their eyes glowing eerily in the blackness. Just as he felt one of their claws touch his back, Sanji awoke with a start, covered in sweat, his breath unsteady.

Putting a hand on his chest, feeling his rabbit fast heartbeat, Sanji sighed, lying back in the bed. Each time he was close to unconsciousness, his stomach spasmed, wrenching Sanji awake. The thirst had grown worse with each passing hour since this afternoon. His throat was dreadfully dry. Before sleeping, he tried to drown the craving with water, which only served to fill his bladder and little else.

He shifted on the bed, wincing as his gut constricted involuntarily. Hugging his knees and pressing his face against his pillow, Sanji groaned quietly so as not to wake any of the others. It was torture, worse than even the two years spent away from the crew.

Despite not wanting to, Sanji felt his eyes grow wet. No, this wouldn’t do. Setting his jaw, Sanji wiped the near tears away, stubbornly refusing to be so pathetic. He wasn’t so full of himself that he wouldn’t admit he wanted help. He needed Zoro, or rather what flowed in his veins.

Sanji was nervous as he climbed the ladder up to the crow’s nest, poking his head up into the large room. The weight of Zoro’s gaze held him in place, Sanji saying nothing, his throat blocked up. Zoro started to smile, and Sanji shook his head. “Screw this,” he said, climbing back down to the main deck. This was a bad idea. He could hold out longer. When the next island appeared, he’d…

His control would be so strained by that point, he would probably attack the first person he saw. Chewing on his lower lip, Sanji paused in the middle of the ladder, then started back up. He refused to become an animal, he could be civilized about this, dammit. Sanji ignored the knowing look on Zoro’s face, coming to stand in front of him. “I need it,” he said simply, feeling like he was talking about drugs or worse, sex. In a way, he supposed he was.

Zoro stood up, reaching out and flicking Sanji’s forehead with his fingers. “You’re a complete idiot.” Annoyed, Sanji growled under his breath, taking a seat. He eyed Zoro suspiciously when he sat next to him, looking oh so casual despite the downright bizarre situation. 

Hunger gnawed deep in the pit of his stomach, twisting his guts. He’d eaten dinner with the others, but it may well have been a single peanut for all the good it did him now. “Is it really that bad?” Sanji gave Zoro a hooded look, the latter glancing away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re not changing your mind?”

Zoro’s upraised arm dropped to his side. “Of course not. Just…where exactly are you doing it?” Sanji ducked his head, hiding a smirk. Zoro had found out his crewmate was a vampire, offered his blood freely without batting an eye, and his lone concern was a matter of location. His priorities were ridiculous.

Squashing the urge to laugh, Sanji examined Zoro, considering his dining options. The neck was ideal but too obvious. The others would notice immediately. His eyes flicked to the wrist, knowing the main vein rested there. That was a problem in of itself. If he bit down too hard, there was a possibility Zoro would bleed out. The bend of the elbow was perfect. Doctors took blood there and wounds clotted quickly.

Sanji leaned over Zoro, all but crawling into his lap, his hand skimming Zoro’s arm. He jumped faintly, his eye narrowing in unease. Sanji’s hand closed over Zoro’s bicep, sliding down until stopping with one finger pressing against the vein, Zoro’s pulse pounding on the pad of his finger. “Here fine?” Zoro swallowed loudly then nodded stiffly, cheeks slightly red. It was oddly endearing and Sanji couldn’t help smiling.

“What’s that look for?” Zoro asked gruffly, starting to pull away, pausing when Sanji tightened his grip. “Cook?” He was so thirsty and so close to sating the overwhelming craving. It was like Sanji was back on the island with Zeff again, starving to death slowly.

“Zoro,” he breathed, moving closer, not even aware of what he was doing. Zoro’s expression changed, showing hesitation. His nose almost against Zoro’s skin, an aroma rose from it. Sanji could pick up metal and clove oil, underneath that the cloying scent of blood.

Sanji wondered what he looked like, sitting in Zoro’s lap, leaning over his arm, hunger completely riding him. “I don’t know if it’ll hurt,” he confessed, afraid he’d start drooling any moment.

“Just do it,” Zoro said bluntly, his voice hard. Sensing a strange itch in his gums, Sanji knew his fangs had descended, up to the task ahead. Not needing to be told twice, he bit down, almost passing out at the sudden burst of desire that seized him as Zoro’s blood hit his tongue.

It was the sweetest and richest wine he could ever have imagined, instantly intoxicating, and Sanji didn’t know if he would be able to stop drinking it. He drew more, glad he’d closed his eyes before biting down, so Zoro couldn’t see how sucking blood affected Sanji. God, there was so much of it, each mouthful doing things to the lower region of his body. He was already rock hard, pulses of pleasure racing down his limbs, fingertips numb, and heat saturating the pit of his stomach.

It was easily the most erotic act he’d ever experienced, and Zoro, of all people, was the cause of it. Someone moaned, a millisecond of sound cut off abruptly, and Sanji stilled, cognizant that it wasn’t coming from him as his mouth was otherwise engaged. He’d been so overwhelmed with his own reaction, Sanji hadn’t thought about Zoro’s. Rolling his eyes upwards, his vise-like grip on Zoro’s arm slackened in surprise.

With a hand plastered to his mouth, Zoro was hunched over, leaning away from Sanji, visibly trembling. His face was bright red and his eye was wild, a tiny bit of panic showing, but mostly lit with need. Sanji’s fangs were locked in Zoro’s arm, a fine suction keeping the blood flowing. Pulling harder, wanting to confirm it, Sanji watched as Zoro’s shoulders dropped, breathing shakily, and despite his best efforts to remain silent, he gasped.

His eye met Sanji’s and the knowledge that this act had them both hot and bothered hung heavily in the air, waiting to be acknowledged. They’d done this to each other on accident, but neither had stopped yet. Zoro hadn’t cried foul and shoved him away, which was all the encouragement Sanji needed to continue. It was hard to tell how much blood he’d taken, but it couldn’t have been enough to hurt Zoro, not if the swell against his leg was any indication.

Sanji knew he could end the torment for both of them easily. Zoro’s heartbeat was unusually loud in his ears, his low “do it” almost drowned out by the sound. Sanji plunged his fangs in deeper, goaded by the groan of pleasure that sounded above him as he did so, and the hand coming to rest against his head, Zoro’s fingers clutching his hair. Was he feeling what Sanji was or was it different on his end? The blood was bliss, alighting every single nerve ending.

Greedily, Sanji kept pulling, slowing when he felt Zoro stiffen above him, and emit a hoarse cry. As if connected to the climax, Zoro’s blood seemed to heat up, making Sanji jerk and moan. The warmth seared the roof of his mouth, shattering the pressure that had been building steadily ever since he’d tapped Zoro’s vein, pleasure radiating throughout his body. Gobsmacked by the ferocity and longevity of the release, Sanji finally disconnected from Zoro’s arm, small aftershocks vibrating along his spine.

Panting, clutching his crewmate’s arm, Sanji was stunned to see the bite wound was neat and tidy with two tiny near invisible punctures in the bend of Zoro’s arm. A bit of blood seeped out of the wound and unable to help himself, Sanji licked it up, Zoro flinching. Lazily moving his head, trying to get all his limbs in order again, Sanji stared in amazement as the bite mark completely vanished before his eyes.

Zoro did a double take, taking back his arm, running a hand over it in disbelief. Putting distance between them, Sanji wiped at his mouth then scoffed. “If I’d have known that would happen, I’d have gone for the neck.” There was a moment of silence before Zoro snorted, breaking into laughter. The awkward tension broken, Sanji joined in, a bit buzzed from the blood, and grateful Zoro hadn’t reacted negatively to the situation.

He really hadn’t expected the act of bloodsucking to be so damn sensual. Sitting close to Zoro, Sanji was aware he needed to go clean himself up. Beyond looking a bit pale, Zoro was no worse for wear. He shifted awkwardly at the attention paid him, avoiding Sanji’s gaze, face flushed a little. “When do you think you’ll need blood again?”

Was he asking because he wanted a repeat of the experience, or because he was dreading it? Sanji had lasted three days without liquid sustenance, mostly because he wasn’t exactly sure what his body had been craving at the time. Now that he knew, Sanji figured he could go four days before his need was dire enough.

“Thanks for volunteering,” he said with a grin, winking at Zoro before he got onto the ladder that would lead down to the main deck. “I’ll let you know.”               

_**To Be Continued...** _


	2. Thirst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his hunger set to rise again, Sanji attempts to take care of business on his own.

_A/N: Because someone asked…and because it was almost done anyway. Also, I guess it's a WIP now. ^^;_

\---------------------------

**_Chapter Two: Thirst_**

_“Sanji-kun.” The velvety voice was instantly recognizable and even in a dream, Sanji stood at attention. He was back in the hotel room in Kasei, Carmilla sitting next to him, her fingers playing against the back of his hand. She was just as stunning as he remembered, which Sanji thought was cruel. Even in dreams, she tormented him. “It’s not a dream, not as you understand it,” Carmilla said, spooking Sanji with her apparent psychic ability. “More like a conference call of sorts.”_

_Carmilla cupped his cheek, her eyes sad as she surveyed him. So this wasn’t- she was really here? It should have been impossible, but Sanji had thought vampires were as well. How wrong he’d been. “I must say I didn’t anticipate this,” Carmilla confessed, stroking his neck, circling her rapidly fading mark._

_Despite his happiness at seeing her again, Sanji could feel himself growing angry, a deep well simmering in him with surprising intensity. Lesser men would have given into it, striking out at her. Sanji wasn’t most men, yet he still stood up, moving away from Carmilla, needing to distance himself. Besides, coherent thought was difficult when she was touching him._

_Sanji just wanted to know one thing. “Why?”_

_She was hurt, Sanji could tell, but resigned as well. Carmilla clasped her hands in her lap, regarding him seriously. “Hunger played a part that evening. As you’ve no doubt discovered, it’s beneficial for both parties.” Sanji snorted in disbelief, beneficial seemed too kind a word for the instant sex starter. “I wanted to share that with you, Sanji, because I liked you,” Carmilla continued, her words hitting him straight in the gut._

_He’d been right then, she had felt a connection just as he had. “Usually my lovers suffer no ill effects. You, however, are different. Perhaps it’s something to do with your breeding?” Sanji set his jaw, disquieted with the knowledge that his father might hold the blame in this matter. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have left you. Please believe that.”_

_Some of his anger had cooled after hearing Carmilla’s side of the story. “Conversion by bite is exceptionally rare. I can only apologize for my part in your recent troubles. I truly meant you no harm.”_

_Seeming properly contrite, Sanji was inclined to believe her. “I realize it’s likely too late, but is there anything you wish to know?”_

_He had a million questions for Carmilla. “What do you look like when feeding? I can’t remember very clearly.” Beyond the glimpses he’d caught in dreams, it was galling that Sanji couldn’t even remember the event that had changed his life entirely._

_Carmilla smiled, going still on the bed. The black pupils of her eyes brightened, turning red, some kind of light from within making them glow a bit. Her fangs were impossibly long, the tips of them just brushing her lower lip. It was not a comforting sight and some of Zoro’s apprehension around Sanji made more sense. All told, it could’ve been worse. Sanji had met scarier monsters while traveling the Grand Line. “That’s enough, thanks.”_

_Within a few seconds, Carmilla’s facial features returned to normal. She sat back, awaiting more questions. “How old are you?”_

_She waved her finger impishly, smiling. “Old enough to be your elder,” Carmilla said vaguely. Damn, she was charming even when she played coy._

_“I understood that after first meeting you. What I’m really asking is has my life expectancy gone up a few pegs?”_

_All the amusement in Carmilla faded, leaving her looking haunted…and lonely. An answer in itself really. “You can safely assume that, yes. However, we are not infallible. Mortal wounds will still kill as much as they will humans,” she explained. “We do heal faster if that’s any consolation. Hunger becomes a factor afterward though so don’t be needlessly reckless.”_

_An impossible task for someone serving on a notorious pirate crew. Poor Zoro was going to be put through his paces. Sanji laughed quietly to himself until a thought occurred to him. “Your lovers, are they always male?”_

_“Not always, I’ve found women can be just as invigorating.” Sanji figured as much going by his reaction to Zoro’s bodily response. Recalling it didn’t fill him with revulsion. It was like a door that was previously locked had been opened in his mind._

_Carmilla stood up, dragging Sanji from his thoughts. “You’ve found someone then.” He raised a brow, wondering if she’d read his mind again. “To feed you,” she added, half-smiling as if she knew Sanji was trying to evade the subject._

_“He’s…not my ideal choice,” he admitted reluctantly, wishing it’d been one of the girls who stumbled onto his secret._

_“He must hold some semblance of affection for you if he was willing to open a vein for you.” As impossible as it sounded, Carmilla was right. Sanji had already wondered why Zoro seemed so open-minded about the matter._

_Standing in front of him, Carmilla looked at him fondly. “Don’t push him away, he has your life in his hands after all.” She leaned upward, kissing Sanji’s forehead. “I have to leave you.”_

_He grabbed her arm. “I have more to as-“_

_“Another time,” Carmilla said gently, smiling at him. “I can feel you even half a world away. Now wake up.”_

Sanji opened his eyes, staring blearily at the bed above him. It had really happened, hadn’t it? His brain couldn’t have come up with so much detail on its own. He felt much better about his situation than before.

There was still a lot he didn’t know, but Carmilla had at least covered the bare bones of the matter. She hadn’t been intentionally malicious, which was the most important part to Sanji. He hadn’t been used as he previously thought.   

\---------------------------

Sanji had forgotten why they were fighting. His body had fallen into familiar patterns, moving on autopilot. Either he or Zoro said something that grated on nerves and they’d come to blows. Everyone else was ignoring them, used to the almost daily occurrence. Even with two swords drawn, Zoro wasn’t a threat. He never aimed for anything vital, Sanji able to deflect his blows easily, keeping things on an even playing field.

He knew he was grinning as he swept a leg under Zoro, the swordsman jumping over it, charging Sanji from the side afterward. Sanji never voiced it, but he enjoyed the sparring. It helped alleviate boredom and allowed him to vent his frustrations. Pushing himself upwards with his hands, Sanji met Zoro’s rush, one of the blades sticking in the underside of his shoe, giving him leverage and making Zoro pause a few seconds.

Sanji shoved with all his might, Zoro losing his footing, flying back to crash into the ship railing. It cracked, the sound loud, and Zoro briefly flailed before catching himself on the section of railing next to him, the part behind his back falling into the ocean. Oh, shit. This was bad. Never mind Zoro, Franky would have his head. 

Zoro pulled himself up, holstering his swords afterward. He looked faintly shaken, looking at Sanji with concern. One side of his mouth pulled up scornfully as he rotated one of his shoulders, getting the kinks out. “You should watch your strength, Cook,” he said cryptically, touching Sanji’s arm. “Not everyone’s made of rubber.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Sanji asked, confused until he realized what Zoro was implying. He hadn’t held anything back in the last blow of the fight and Zoro was caught off-guard by it, meaning his strength was greater than Zoro had thought. The knowledge he had overpowered Zoro didn’t sit well with Sanji. It wasn’t as if he’d asked for his physiology to change overnight. How was he supposed to know how to tamper his newfound abilities when it was all new to him? 

\---------------------------   

Sanji sniffed the garlic bulb in his hand, the deep pungent flavor making his stomach growl in anticipation. “Why am I supposed to have a problem with this?”

“Well, it does repel and kill mosquitos,” answered Zoro, chopping up vegetables for a salad on the table across from him.

“People are different from mosquitos, Zoro,” Sanji said, picking up a silver knife, disproving yet another myth.

Zoro tilted his head, his hand pausing above the cutting board. “Grown any wings lately?”

“What?”

“Your kind,” Zoro started. “Can turn into bats. Supposedly.” Sanji didn’t like the way he’d separated Sanji into another race. Despite his need for blood, he still felt mostly human. He closed his eyes, concentrating, seeing bats fly in his mind’s eye.

He tried to picture such a transformation happening to him, finally blowing out a breath in exasperation. “Nothing,” Sanji confirmed, turning back to the stove to turn over a thick cut of meat. “I can already sort of fly so no big loss there.”

Zoro put his knife down, finished with his task of eviscerating veggies. “How is your craving anyway?” Sanji almost dropped the meat he was in the middle of transferring onto a sheet pan. Christ, there was such a thing as finessing a topic rather than bring it out of the blue. With the meat safely in the oven to finish cooking, Sanji set a mental timer for himself, he sat down at the kitchen table.

He surveyed Zoro’s work, buying for time. It had only been two days ago since he’d fed, the whole experience still fresh in his mind. Zoro had shown a whole new side of himself, one Sanji wasn’t sure he wanted to know existed. In the heat of the moment, it had seemed natural to make the experience as pleasant as possible. Without the hunger in control, he felt awkward about it all.

Leisurely pushing the cubed vegetables into a glass bowl, Sanji said, “I can last a bit longer, thanks.”

“Your ears are bright red, Cook,” Zoro replied, a hint of laughter in his voice. Dammit. So much for keeping his cool. He expected Zoro’s expression to be derisive, but Zoro was smiling at him. “Not going to lie, I almost punched you right after you bit me, but there are definite advantages to feeding you.”

“You didn’t seem to hate it,” Sanji commented, cautious where to continue the conversation.

“Sort of hard to stay mad at someone when they're essentially going down on you,” said Zoro, going to lay down on the table, resting his head on his crossed arms, missing Sanji's look of shock.

He cleared his throat, recovering quickly when Zoro glanced back at him. “To be fair, I didn't know that was going to happen.”

“Oh, I'm not complaining,” Zoro shot back, peering at Sanji at length, making Sanji nervous what was on his mind. “Does it bother you?”

“Which part?” Sanji asked, hoping some of the bitterness he felt hadn't leaked through into his voice. He went back to the kitchen counter, putting the vegetables to rest there until he needed them.

“That you've become dependent on me.”

He'd expected Zoro to razz him about getting duped by Carmilla again, not remind him of a cold hard fact he'd tried hard not to linger over. With the beginnings of anger flaring up, Sanji took a breath to calm himself down. “You were a case of emergency rations, not a permanent fix. Now that I know my limit, if we're on an island, I can go take care of it on my own.”

Zoro frowned at him as he lingered near the kitchen door. “Yeah, good luck explaining your condition to a complete stranger, never mind asking for permission to take their blood.” His expression darkening, Sanji said nothing as Zoro left the kitchen, mulling over the fact it might not be easy as he assumed to find a willing donor.

\---------------------------

**_Two days later…_ **

He'd separated from the others after the Sunny had been docked, losing himself in the crowded streets of the port city, and stopping in the middle of a town square. People brushed past him in each direction, Sanji finding it difficult to focus on any one face in the crowd.

His hunger was at an all-time high, buzzing along his skin like a nicotine craving. He only wished it was as easy as lighting up a cigarette. Despite his bravado with Zoro on the subject, Sanji wasn't sure he could do what he needed to. The thought of preying upon a stranger, guy or girl, made him feel sleazy and manipulative. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Sanji blinked slowly, concentrating on the red-haired woman standing next to him. Feeling unsteady and hot, Sanji shook his head, going for honesty. “Do you need help getting anywhere?”

Sanji pointed to an alley a little beyond the square. “Can you help me get over there? I need to sit down for a bit.” The woman nodded, taking his arm in the crook of her elbow, walking him gently in the right direction. He leaned closer to her, her natural smell of citrus and flowery perfume combining to make a heady banquet.

His stomach clenched and Sanji doubled over, the woman making a sound of distress. Sanji panted, sweat forming on his brow. “You need a doctor,” she said softly, staring up at him through short bangs.

“No doctors,” Sanji insisted, straightening up with effort. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, her neck utterly exposed. They finally neared the alleyway and Sanji motioned them to go further in, around the corner. The woman hesitated ever so slightly but went along with the suggestion.

Perched on the edge of a closed trashcan a moment later, Sanji got his breath back and touched the woman's arm appreciatively. “What's your name?”

She smiled, still looked worried about him. “Fiona.”  

“Thank you so much for helping me out, Fiona.” Color rose in her cheeks and Fiona shook her head. “I was glad to.” Sanji leaned forward after surveying the area, making sure they were alone.

“Would you like a thank you gift?” he asked, trying for suave and non-threatening, despite feeling less than his best. Fiona quickly looked down at the ground before she raised her head, her eyes bright with interest.

“What did you have in mind?”

Sanji smiled, hoping his fangs hadn't run out yet. Fiona didn't react so he must have been okay, even though Sanji could barely think past his own thirst. A pounding relentless need was driving him to take what Fiona wouldn't miss. “Tilt your head up a minute.”

Fiona's pupils dilated, and she gradually looked up at the sky, exposing the long line of her neck. Sanji could see her pulse twittering wildly on the side of it and lightly placed a hand on Fiona's shoulder, balancing himself. “Close your eyes.”

He licked his lips, breathing unsteadily, nervous now that he'd managed to make it this far. Her skin was soft, the flower scent stronger the closer Sanji got, finally pinning it down as hibiscus. Fiona was beautiful and nice and Sanji had lured her out of the crowd for his own voracious purposes.

Sanji got near enough to see the main vein in her neck go out of focus before he was suddenly sick with the thought of taking advantage of Fiona’s kindness. He set his jaw, almost throwing himself back onto the trashcan. Sanji couldn't do it. It was wrong on so many levels. Carmilla may have accidentally made him a predator, but that didn’t mean Sanji had to be an asshole about it.

He made sure he looked normal as he drew Fiona’s chin down, the woman confused as she met his gaze. He lightly kissed Fiona’s cheek and squeezed her shoulder, holding his hunger back with effort. “Sorry I've taken up so much of your time. You probably have better things to do, right?”

Fiona took a step back, her expression perplexed and a touch disappointed. “Right,” she said. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Once Fiona had turned the corner and was out of sight, Sanji put his face in his hands, groaning to himself.

Frustration overcame Sanji and he stood up, lashing out and kicking the wall of the building next to him. He coughed as the brick and mortar exploded into fine dust, a huge chunk taken out of the area when the dust had dissipated. “Shit.” Where the hell was Zoro when Sanji needed him?

With his senses enhanced by his transformation, Sanji may as well make use of them. He took a deep breath, falling back into the moment before he’d bitten Zoro on the ship. The phantom scent of metal and clove filled his mind, and Sanji narrowed his eyes, subtly sniffing at the air. Like a damn bloodhound, he separated the myriad of olfactory distractions from the crowds of people and shop fronts, weaving his way past them and treading down countless streets in his single-minded search.

Sanji's steady pace faltered near a side street, shivering as Zoro's scent melded with the sharp familiar tang of blood. His control was already frayed and the development did nothing to improve the situation. His voice shook as he called out, “Idiot?”

As if on cue, he heard the telltale sounds of a fight. The squeak of shoes on cobblestone, the grunting as air escaped lungs, and meaty impact noises taking him back to his days on the Baratie where scuffles were an everyday occurrence. It figured Zoro would be somewhere noisy. He turned down the side street, seeing Zoro cut down the last of a group of five men, the edge of his sword tinged with crimson.

He was panting slightly, taking a moment to flick the blood off his weapon before he sheathed it. “Bounty hunters. Figured I'd take them out now rather than later.” Sanji hadn't heard a word Zoro said, his throat desperately dry as he surveyed the damage. There was red splashed everywhere, and unbidden Sanji closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Notes of whiskey, citrus, and smoke invaded his senses, Sanji lost in the subtleties of them.

God, right there, to his right was a sweet caramel scent among all the copper. Shifting closer, Sanji knelt at the fallen man's side, leaning over him. “Cook?” He was just barely conscious, the man's eyes panicked as they took in Sanji's hungry expression. He smiled, grabbing hold of the man's arm, yanking him closer.

He cried out in pain while Sanji eyed the deep cut on the man’s arm, steadily seeping red. His clothes had absorbed some of it, which was such a waste. If Sanji looked close enough, he could see the delicate veins that ran underneath the skin, and he opened his mouth to bite down on the wound when he was wrenched backward. Sanji snarled, his head whipping back, prepared to fight off any predator who tried to go after his prey. “Blondie!”

The loud shout startled him, Sanji slow to realize Zoro was crouched next to him, looking worried. His fangs were down, brushing against his bottom lip, and Sanji retreated from the bounty hunter until his back was pressed flat against the opposite wall, looking anywhere but at the scene of carnage he'd almost added to unwittingly.

 “This is a problem,” Zoro muttered, stating the goddamn obvious. Even knowing what he’d tried to do, Sanji still had the urge to take his fill of the injured man, his stomach growling quietly. That his body had acted by itself was unsettling. Sanji was always used to being in control and having it stripped away by his inner nature…

“You need to go, “Zoro announced, hauling Sanji up until he was on his feet again. “Right now.” Sanji stumbled, dawdling because Zoro had gotten blood on his hands and it was driving him crazy. He felt lightheaded as if he was having an out-of-body experience. Sanji didn't want to leave, not when there was such a banquet before him. Especially because all of them were injured and couldn’t run. It would be so easy.

Zoro went to push him again and Sanji whirled around, snatching one of Zoro's hands. He ran his tongue over a red stained finger and shuddered, even as he heard Zoro grunt.

“Hey.” Sanji didn't want to hear it, curling his tongue around Zoro's thumb, the desperate fog permeating Sanji’s mind vaguely lifting.

He pierced the tip of Zoro's thumb with one of his fangs, Zoro’s eye shutting as he bit his lower lip. Compared to the blood scattered around them, Zoro's was more varied and rich. When he could put more than two thoughts together, Sanji let go of Zoro's hand, embarrassed that he'd done such a thing.

“I'm going now.”

Zoro was silent as Sanji started to walk away. “Wait.” Sanji considered pretending he hadn't heard Zoro, but finally looked back, taking in Zoro's thoughtful expression before his face hardened in decision. He walked up to Sanji and jostled his shoulder. “Let's go somewhere a little less public.” Curious why Zoro had changed his tune, Sanji followed him until they came to the front of a hotel.

Without consulting him, Zoro grabbed his arm, pulling Sanji through the doors, heading up to front desk. In short order, he acquired a room key and started for the elevator. Hunger burned a hole in his gut and Sanji leaned his head against the cool elevator wall, his eyes coming to rest on Zoro who stood there calmly as the elevator gradually climbed up several floors.  

“How are you okay with this?” Sanji asked in the silence between them, swallowing loudly, his throat dry. Last time, they'd had no idea what they were getting into and now Zoro was all gung-ho about it.

One side of Zoro’s mouth quirked in amusement. “Why wouldn't I be? It's not every day I get some action.”

Sanji stared at him in surprise, trying to think of something to say in response and failing. The elevator dinged and Zoro walked ahead of Sanji into the hallway, forcing him to scurry to catch up. Once inside the room, Zoro tossing the keys onto the desk haphazardly, he sat down on the bed and crossed his arms, gazing at Sanji. “If I’m going to provide this service, I’m going to need to hear something from you.”

“What exactly?” Sanji questioned, narrowing his eyes. Zoro was definitely enjoying this far too much. Friggin’ sadist.

“Use your imagination.”

“I really hate you,” Sanji sneered, the need to feed nearly overwhelming his sense of pride. His insides twisted painfully. Sanji had put it off as long as he could, four long days of waiting out the inevitable.

“Likewise,” Zoro replied easily, expectation shining in his eye.

He was going to make him say it, wasn’t he? Little by little, the ends of Zoro’s mouth turned upwards until it was a wide smile. Suppressing the desire to strike out, Sanji barely looked at Zoro as he said, “You know what I want.”

He couldn’t afford to walk away or deny anything Zoro asked. Sanji had tried the random stranger route, which hadn’t worked. How did Carmilla do it so easily? That Zoro even allowed Sanji to do this was downright amazing. If words could satisfy him, he could comply…begrudgingly.

Hating himself for his weakness, Sanji met Zoro’s gaze straight on, refusing to look away despite his inclination to do just that. “If you could please assist me by giving me some of your blood, I’d be very grateful.”

Zoro briefly closed his eye, seeming satisfied with Sanji’s words. “That’ll do it,” he said. “I really don’t think you can last much longer anyway.” Sanji went to lick his lips, a hint of fang against his tongue. Had they been out the whole time? Shit. Sanji needed to get control of this sooner rather than later. Clearly, he’d waited too long.

“Why are you _really_ letting me do this?” Sanji asked, stubbornly keeping his eyes on Zoro’s face rather than his neck as he approached the bed. He was actually starting to salivate at the thought of biting into it.

“It’s not like it hurts,” Zoro explained, the last word strained, not truly answering his question as Sanji touched his shoulder. He could feel himself smile, leaning down, the scent of steel robust as he neared Zoro’s neck.

“Just the opposite,” Sanji confirmed, pushing down the collar of Zoro’s shirt, the long stretch of his neck calling to him. Adrenaline surged through Sanji and he felt hot and wild, barely in control of himself.

“You’re goddamn right,” Zoro said, his pulse pounding against Sanji’s fangs as he bit down. His eyes rolled back in his head, heat searing his stomach as the spicy mixture filled Sanji’s mouth. He hated everything about his supernatural status except for this. It was absolutely perfect when he was in the moment, but so awkward out of it.

Zoro’s shoulders had loosened as soon as Sanji tapped the vein, his close proximity allowing him to notice Zoro’s breathing go shaky, his hands fisted at his sides. Sanji swallowed one mouthful of blood, slowing his pace, drawing it out, curious if he could improve the experience. Letting go of one of Zoro’s shoulders, Sanji put a hand under Zoro’s shirt, touching his stomach.

Sanji was just beginning to slide his hand down when Zoro grabbed it as he neared Zoro’s bellybutton, his grip loosening on Sanji’s wrist as Sanji pulled harder with his mouth, half distracted by his own pleasure as he gripped the proof of Zoro’s excitement.

Zoro shuddered against Sanji, his eye fluttering shut. His hand on the bedspread slipped and Zoro fell backward, landing on his back. Crouched over Zoro, Sanji clutched at him tightly, Zoro panting almost directly into Sanji’s ear. “Cook…” The almost keening tone in the nickname made Sanji’s stomach lurch pleasantly, struggling to keep himself under control.

Sanji realized it wasn’t only the blood that was affecting him so deeply. It was that he could bring down his near equal so low and Zoro actually _let_ him. His head reeling from the revelation, Sanji squashed the compulsion to end it quickly, his fingers shifting ever so slightly in his Zoro’s pants at the same time he drew more blood.

He was rewarded when Zoro’s hand shot out and gripped his arm painfully tight, the spasm that shook Zoro’s frame preceding the heat that surged through his blood as he climaxed. His eyes closing at the power of it, Sanji pulled leisurely, Zoro’s breathy groans reinforcing the notion that so long as he kept feeding, Zoro’s pleasure was prolonged.

Time slipped away for a while, Sanji lost in the ambrosia of Zoro’s blood and his own base need. The touch of a shaky hand against his own stomach, moving slowly lower made Sanji start, jerking as Zoro touched him intimately, some of the blood slipping past Sanji’s lips to splash Zoro’s collar. Christ. He hadn’t anticipated that.     

Even in a haze of vampiric-enforced pleasure, Zoro was participating in the act. It was more than Sanji expected from him, and Sanji knew he couldn’t continue indefinitely, cursing his lack of experience, afraid of taking too much from Zoro.

Fingernails dug into his arm, the pain mixing with Sanji’s pleasure and he finally broke, rearing back from Zoro and his grip, vision blurring for a moment, sitting back on his knees. Everything was smoky around the edges, Sanji panting, a bit of leftover blood beginning to drip down his lower lip. Sanji took his hand back from Zoro’s lower half, not even looking at the mess on it.

Sanji thought he would be sickened at the fact he’d given Zoro a hand job and vice versa, but could only feel satisfaction he had done it right and not screwed it up. “Let it never be said you don’t aim to please,” Zoro said slowly, looking sated and tired underneath him.

He wiped his hand off on the edge of the bedspread before Zoro reached up to him, touching Sanji’s chin, smearing some of the blood. He stared at the red on his fingers and finally smiled. “I’m glad it’s good for something. Has it healed yet?”

Overwhelmed by what had just happened to get it right away, Sanji blinked. “What?”

“The bite, idiot.” Oh, right, of course. Glancing at Zoro’s neck, noting that his bite was relatively clean for its large size, Sanji nodded. It was already growing faint as he watched. Discomfited, Sanji stood, his knees shaky. Glad he was wearing black, Sanji used his suit sleeve, wiping away the remnants of blood that remained on his mouth and chin.

Zoro’s gift sat warmly in his stomach, the effects from it seeming to stretch outward in his body, his fatigue and hunger gone, everything right with the world again. Sanji went into the bathroom, washing his face and hands, staring at himself in the mirror, trying to reconcile that this was his life now.

He didn’t know how many more times it would take for feeding to become second nature. Sanji both dreaded and desperately wanted that sense of normality. As it was now though, Sanji knew he would have a hard time looking Zoro in the face. The nature of their relationship had irrevocably changed.

Thanks to Carmilla, he knew things about Zoro he wouldn’t in a million years have known otherwise. The shape of his privates, the way his breath hitched when stimulated the right way, and last but not least, how goddamn sexy Zoro was when he let down his tough exterior. Life had gotten more interesting in the most unexpected way possible.    

“Are you done?” Zoro asked, lounging against the bathroom door frame, Sanji straightening from the counter. Sanji motioned for him to go ahead, surprised when Zoro stopped before him, eyeing Sanji.

Zoro leaned forward, Sanji taking a step back as he got closer. Eventually, his back met the tiled wall, staring at Zoro’s face curiously from inches away. “What?”

Sanji froze as Zoro pressed forward, his mouth catching Sanji's in a brief kiss. It lasted less than a second, Sanji too dumbfounded to react as Zoro retreated to the bathroom counter. He was smirking, looking pleased as punch, going to wash up himself, saying nothing about what he'd just done.

Mutely, Sanji walked out the hotel room door, trying to process what had just happened. He touched his lips, only able to taste the leftover copper from the banquet Zoro had provided him.

He needed a cigarette. Lighting up, Sanji puffed away, his brow narrowed in contemplation. He was more puzzled more than anything else by Zoro's behavior. Sanji could only think of one thing to say.

“What the fuck was that?”

**_To Be Continued..._ **


	3. Limit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taken hostage by a gang of bounty hunters, Sanji has to fight his way to freedom.

_A/N: So, uh, yeah. This is full of gore, blood, and not nice stuff. Fair warning to anyone who might be sensitive to said material. The story rating’s been changed to reflect the change in content. I promise I’ll get back to the vampire smutty goodness soon._

\------------------------------

**_Chapter Three: Limit_ **

Sanji stared at Zoro’s back as he walked down the hotel hallway, close to finishing his cigarette and still no closer to what the hell kind of game his crewmate was playing at. Sanji felt amazingly good, sated both in regards to his thirst and bodily needs.

By the time Zoro had left the bathroom, the bite was completely gone and he didn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects. If anything, Zoro was in a chipper mood, which just added to the surreal nature of the situation.

 “You’ve got a little something on the back of your shirt collar,” Sanji said, tugging gently on the small patch of claret showing on the white garment, his fingers dry when he let go as Zoro glanced back, awkwardly trying to see over his shoulder.

“And here I thought you were a neat eater.”

His hackles rising, Sanji chose to dispose of his spent cigarette, eyeing Zoro as he waited by the double doors. To look at him, one wouldn’t think he could produce such alluring expressions or sounds, but they lingered in Sanji’s head, haunting him. He questioned if eventually, he would pursue Zoro not just for blood, but for something much different. Strangely, the thought didn’t feel that alien.

“You gonna stand there all day, Blondie?’

“Are you on a schedule I don’t know about?” Sanji asked, exiting out onto the street, the people milling about no longer a torment to him. He wondered if Fiona had passed their encounter off as something out of the ordinary or forgotten it already. The sun was setting, dark orange and pink trapped near the horizon in the sky. They’d been in the motel room longer than he thought.

“Oh, yeah, besides feeding a vampire, I have so many things to do today.” The sarcasm in Zoro’s voice was heavy, his mouth upturned into a smirk.

“Really? Pray tell, what does a swordsman do on an average day?”

“I cut idiots who can’t keep their damn mouths shut,” Zoro threatened, ruining the threat with his amused expression. Sanji had to chuckle as they neared the docks, ships of all shapes and sizes casting long dark shadows on the water.

“What’s the wait time anyway?”

“Two days.”

“Not bad, just enough time to restock our supplies,” Sanji said, standing next to Sunny, taking a moment to shake out another cigarette from his pack. He stuck it in his mouth and lit it as he boarded the ship.

“Somebody’s looking better,” Robin commented, leaning against the ship railing. “Find what you needed?”

Sanji inhaled deeply from his cigarette and grinned. “I did indeed.”        

\---------------------------

_“Carmilla.” Sanji’s head rested on Carmilla's lap, staring up at her hair as sunlight shone through it, highlighting the color, making it look unearthly. He glanced at his surroundings, seeing that they were situated on a small boat that rocked softly, gradually drifting down a wide river._

_“Yes?” Now that Sanji knew Carmilla could appear at will in his dreams, he looked forward to her visits. He needed to know more about his condition and how it affected those around him. Sanji thought about how to phrase his question._

_“About those we feed on, are there any drawbacks?”_

_Carmilla tilted her head, curiosity shining in her eyes. “Why are you asking?”_

_“Zoro…”_

_“Is that his name?” Carmilla asked, looking pleased to be trusted with the information. “The one who’s been feeding you?”_

_Sanji nodded. “He did something to me.” She smiled, casually leaning down to touch Sanji's mouth. How the hell did Carmilla know? Maybe it was part of the bond that bound them together. The same one that allowed them to communicate over a great distance._

_“Is he besotted with you?” Her voice was low, in a conspiratorial whisper. Sanji sat up, turning around until he was face to face with Carmilla, sitting across from her._

_“Is that something that happens to our…victims?”_

_“Donors,” she corrected stiffly, looking around a moment before answering. Some of her good cheer melted away as she met Sanji’s gaze. Every time Carmilla stopped flirting with him, Sanji knew he was getting a glimpse of her true self. One that had seen countless years go by and become jaded._

_“There is a certain field of influence our kind exude that can affect other people. Not adversely per say, “Carmilla explained patiently. “It’s more of a mental lure that lulls them into being more susceptible to what we offer.”_

_Fiona’s readiness to do as he bid just after meeting him and Zoro’s odd receptiveness made more sense. “It's not unknown for donors to act differently, especially if they're the only one you're feeding on. I myself try to limit it to one person, moving to another the next time I need to feed. Perhaps you should do the same and see if Zoro goes back to his usual self.”_

_Sanji shook his head. “I can't. I honestly tried.”_

_Carmilla looked far more understanding about the matter than Sanji felt he deserved. “Give yourself some time, you've only just started on this path. Forgive yourself a little weakness, Sanji.”_

_She dropped her hand, resting her arm on the side of the boat. “A steep learning curve, huh?” he replied, straightening up, his eyes surveying the beautiful scenery before landing on Carmilla again as she chuckled._

_“Yes.”_

_“Okay, I'll keep that in mind.” Sanji gently grabbed Carmilla’s hand, bringing it to his mouth to where he kissed the back of it. “Thank you for meeting me again.”_

_Carmilla smiled, squeezing Sanji’s hand lightly. “It was my pleasure.”_

\-------------------------

The next day, while he was exploring an open-air market, rough hands grabbed Sanji’s shoulders, yanking Sanji around an alley corner, out of public view. Just as he was about to kick out, a thick wet cloth was pressed against his mouth and nose. The flumes from what had to be chloroform were sweet with a strong musty smell.

He held his breath as long as he could, struggling against two shadowed men that held him against a wall, but despite his best efforts, Sanji eventually had to full his aching lungs and he gasped, the world immediately going fuzzy around the edges.

Before it blinked completely out, Sanji thought he saw the man he’d almost bit from the alley where Zoro had taken out the bounty hunters. He had a spare thought about his crew, whether they’d know something was wrong when he didn’t meet up with them, then a bright light flashed against his eyes, Sanji squinting at it.

His head hurt and his mouth tasted like copper. Sanji tried to move, glancing down to see that his hands and feet were bound tightly.  

“This really the guy, Leo?”

“Yeah,” the short-statured man called Leo said, white bandages on his stomach and one of his knees. His dark gaze lingered on Sanji, keeping his distance from him. “I shit you not, he had fangs.”

“He looks perfectly normal, Leo,” a redheaded man replied, Sanji closing his eyes as his headache grew worse. Sanji was trussed up well and good, thick steel handcuffs on his wrists and ankles. About the only thing he could move was his head and the dizzying sensation when he did wasn’t worth it.    

“I know what I saw, Ryan. He was going to bite me, dammit!”

“Was he?” A feminine voice asked, full of interest and clearly occupying a position of some authority as the men’s squabbling instantly stopped. A beautiful face laced with long black hair hovered over him, white teeth glistening as she grinned at Sanji. “Let me see them.”

The men forcefully began pulling him up towards the woman. Fingers pushed at his mouth and Sanji brought his head up hard, Leo yelping as he leaned back, his nose bleeding a little. The world rocked for a moment as someone slapped Sanji hard.

He could taste bile at the back of his throat and dimly heard a ringing sound about his ears. “Stop your fussing, Leo.”

“But Alana, he-“

“Shut. Up.” Alana’s expression had gone cold, her voice brooking no disobedience. She grabbed the back of Leo’s head, bringing his injured nose close to Sanji’s face. He’d fed on Zoro a day ago, but the aroma of the blood was still enticing. A familiar itch started in his gums and Sanji set his jaw, his lips pressed tight, refusing to give in to their demands.

“Roger, I want to see them,” Alana called out in a sing-song voice. Another pair of hands held him still while a knife was shoved against the front of his throat. The threat was clear and reluctantly Sanji opened his mouth, Alana leaning forward, her face inches from his as she examined his teeth.

She pressed the tip of one finger against one of his fangs and laughed darkly, looking pleased. “Fascinating,” she said, nodding to the man behind him, Roger if Sanji remembered right. He dropped Sanji back on the floor, who groaned as he hit it.

 Alana looked up at the men gathered around her. “You did good, guys. Color me impressed.” She looked at Sanji with interest in her eyes. “What I’m really curious about now is how exactly you came to be what you are. If you tell me, I promise your stay with us will be pleasant.”

He could feel his teeth shift back to normal, peering up at Alana with thinly disguised contempt. She was clearly the leader of the gang of bounty hunters and if Sanji had any hope of getting out of here, Alana was it. Sanji didn’t have to like her just because she was a woman though. His mouth was dry and he had to swallow a few times before he could speak. “As opposed to what?”

Alana’s eyes narrowed and she leaned down, peering at Sanji. “It’s Sanji, right? You should know that your crew is not the first we’ve gone after. Altogether, you guys are worth quite a bit. We thought going after you one at a time was smart, but clearly, we started with the wrong targets.”

Sanji had to laugh, a choking hack that hurt his throat as it came out. None of his friends could be described as weak and Alana and her gang were deluding themselves if they thought they could take on the Straw Hats crew so easily. Their only bit of luck so far had been catching Sanji unawares. “Zoro should have killed all of you.”

“Yet he didn’t,” Alana replied, reaching out and patting Sanji’s cheek. “His mistake. So, tell me, Sanji. Have you always been a vampire?”

Sanji licked his lips, debating on how much to tell them. It wasn’t like he even knew that much himself. He had to keep it simple. “No.”

Alana’s eyes lit up, dragging her fingernails lightly down his neck. “So it’s something one can become? Interesting,” she said. “How does that work?” Sanji had no idea. Even Carmilla seemed stumped at his transformation. What was it she’d said? Breeding maybe.

Her grip tightened on his neck, Alana shifting closer when she spied something. A few of her fingers moved to the side of his neck and Sanji realized she was feeling the small mark Carmilla had left behind. “Is it as simple as a bite?” she whispered into Sanji’s ear.  

Sanji grunted, leaning away from her. Alana beamed as if she knew she’d hit upon the conversion method. “Would you bite me?” Alana asked just as quietly. So that was why she’d sent her gang after him. Sanji shook his head firmly, temporarily disoriented as his headache reared its ugly head again. Alana’s face twisted and she dug her fingernails in, scratching Sanji’s neck as she raked them across his skin.

With a sigh, Alana released him, standing up. “He’s being rather stubborn, boys. Put him in the cooler for a few days and let’s see what happens.”

     

That had been four days ago.

Sanji stared up at the slate tiled ceiling above him. The floor beneath his back was freezing cold. He coughed, swallowing multiple times to moisten his incredibly dry throat. It did little to help, a deep ache in the lining of it that refused to lighten. To say nothing of his stomach, which violently cramped every few minutes.

Except for the little food and water that was tossed through the barred window, they’d left him alone. Biding their time, waiting for him to get hungry. Sanji didn’t know how many times he’d tried to tell them conversion by bite was impossible. Gangs were dangerous things, once they’d gotten an idea in their heads, it was hard to talk them out of it.

Steel handcuffs bound his hands and ankles together and even with his increased strength, Sanji hadn’t been able to break them. The walls around him were thick, reinforced from within, his kicks doing nothing but making his head hurt as they vibrated the walls. He was effectively screwed.

The inside of his skull buzzed, the incessant sound would eventually drive him insane. When Sanji did manage to sleep, he dreamt of blood. The taste of it, how smooth it went down. A hot potent intoxicating mixture. The deep red color of it. There were so many words for it. Claret, crimson, ruby, like one word alone, couldn’t encompass the shade of its color.    

He remembered Carmilla’s statement about healing faster and decided to experiment. If he couldn’t break the cuffs, the only left was his body. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose. Sanji pulled his right hand up, gritting his teeth as the handcuff dug into his wrist. He kept pulling, his eyes clenching shut at the feeling of skin giving underneath the steel, wetness dripping down the sides of Sanji’s wrist.

The scent of blood rose high in the air and he winced, Sanji’s stomach growling loudly. With one more painful jerk, his right hand slid through the cuff and he laid there panting, sluggishly bringing his hands to the front of his body, his shoulder stiff and sore.

White showed through the lacerated skin on his wrist and Sanji stared at it tiredly. Despite the sharp throbbing pain, the red was tempting and Sanji brought his injured wrist close to his mouth, the tip of his tongue peeking out and touching the blood.

He gagged, the blood bitter and rank. Cannibalism was out. Sanji spit it to the ground and gave into the blackness that lingered on the edge of his mind. When he woke up again, his right hand had healed, the newly grown skin tinged a light pink. The pain was gone, but his hunger felt worse. Sanji wasn’t sure which one he preferred.

Rested at least a bit, Sanji sat up, the pair of handcuffs on his left wrist hanging loosely. He leaned over his bound ankles, taking off his socks and shoes to make it easier. Gripping one band of the handcuffs, he pushed it down his left foot, using all of his strength, shredding skin and scraping against bone. It was harder getting the cuff of metal down the rest of his foot and Sanji was out of breath and near unconsciousness once it was done.

He didn’t fight it, falling back onto the floor to rest. What felt like hours later, Sanji rubbed at his eyes and sat up again, a weak grin blossoming on his face as he saw his foot was healed. On went the sock and shoes again, Sanji relishing the feeling of being able to spread out his body for once.        

One thing he’d noticed over time was that his heartbeat was getting slower, like his body was going into hibernation. Sanji didn’t know enough about his condition to know if that was a good or bad thing. How much longer could he last without blood? He wondered if another day would kill him or if the process would take longer, becoming even more painful.

Footsteps came close to the cell door and Sanji quickly assumed his former cramped position, hoping his captors wouldn’t notice the handcuffs weren’t binding him anymore. Looking weak wasn’t a problem given he’d expended most of his strength breaking free of the cuffs.

“Alana, he’s not looking good here.”

“What? Move aside, Leo.”

The next thing he knew, a fist clutched the hair on the back of his head, yanking him back to the land of the living. Leo. Sanji could tell by the man’s short height. He opened his eyes, examining the small room, hiding a smirk when he saw how close Leo was to him. Sanji had been waiting for one of them to screw up and they finally had.

Though he still felt weakened, tension started to coil in Sanji’s limbs, anxious for some payback. He played dead in Leo’s grip, the man stupidly crouching over him to check for his pulse. Sanji had a huge advantage over Leo. He was desperate.

He quickly grabbed the front of Leo’s shirt, tossing him to the floor. The man opened his mouth, but the fall had winded Leo, stealing his breath. It didn’t matter if he had called out though, Leo’s comrades would come far too late.

Sanji bent over him, using both his fangs to slice deeply across Leo’s throat, crimson instantly gushing out. He refused to bite the man, denying him the full vampire experience. Leo clutched uselessly at his throat, not realizing how deep Sanji had sliced. There was no coming back from it.

He tried not to look at the blood, but Sanji found himself unable to look elsewhere, his hands shaking. It kept pumping out, saturating Leo’s chest, a large puddle growing underneath his body. Sanji stared at it like a dying man and maybe he was one.

With a savagery that surprised him, as soon as the light died in Leo’s eyes, Sanji tore into his open throat, hot blood soaking his face and neck. Fire seared his veins as a need that had been denied was finally rectified, his mouth working hard to swallow every bit of blood it could find. Even as his mind tried to tell him to stop, Sanji couldn’t. His body was on autopilot.

They’d wanted a vampire. Well now, they had one.

The flow of blood stopped and Sanji blinked as the door to the cell opened, turning his head to look at his next victim. Roger paused for a one a second to take the scene in and that was his fatal mistake.

Sanji leaped at him, his hands squeezing Roger’s throat, the flesh under his fingers tearing easily. Blood splattered his chest while Roger tried to breathe through his ruined trachea and Sanji growled, elated at the power he wielded. Roger’s pocket held the key to the cuffs that hung off half his body and Sanji freed himself completely, pressing himself flat against the back of the door to await the next man’s arrival.

He didn’t have to wait long, kicking upward to the gang member’s head, hearing something crack as he hit the floor, his body going still as Sanji walked past him.

“The guns, you idiots!” Alana’s flustered voice. Sanji walked into the large front room, clearly a living area of some sort. Ryan and another blond man scrambled to grab weapons from an open cabinet in the corner and Alana crouched behind a kitchen island, her head barely visible above it.

“Hurry, Will!”

Sanji wasted no time, stunned at his speed as he hit the blond man’s back, presumably Will, who crumbling to the ground, screaming about his spine. Ryan actually got a finger on the gun’s trigger as he turned around, his face going ashen at the sight of an approaching blood-soaked Sanji.

He planted one hand on Ryan’s face and another on his shoulder, pushing in opposite directions, bones and muscles crumbling like paper underneath Sanji’s fingers. He almost completely separated the head from the man's body.

The gun in Ryan’s hands barked once as he spasmed, finally dying, and something hit Sanji’s side before the area grew cold. Oh, he’d been shot. It hadn’t hurt at all. He gradually became aware of a sound behind him, Sanji tilting his head as he tried to identify it. A woman’s harsh panicked breathing.

Alana froze as Sanji rounded the corner of the kitchen island, blood dripping down his chin, a low growl rumbling in his throat and chest. Alana gasped sharply when she saw Sanji. Even drowning in bloodlust, fully succumbing to his nature, Sanji knew hurting Alana wasn’t an option. Sanji wasn’t sure why but he heeded that inner voice, but if he couldn’t eat her, Sanji could at least frighten the shit out of her.

“I tore your men apart with my bare hands. No wonder you keep them around, they’re delicious.” Alana’s eyes grew wide, her chin beginning to tremble. Her back was flush against a cabinet, caved in on herself like Alana could melt into it. “Not exactly very smart, but good taste is all that matters, right?” He laughed at his own joke, Alana flinching at the sound of the dark chuckle.

“Please, I didn’t mea-, “ she started nervously, hugging her legs tightly to her chest.

“You did mean it,” Sanji said flatly, surprised at how low and rough his voice had gotten. “You wanted a shot at immortality and you tried to use me to do it. Never mind that it probably wouldn’t have worked.” 

She jumped when he knelt in front of her, Alana’s breathing growing louder and more alarmed.  Sanji bared his teeth, bringing his face close to her own. The rising scent of fear was heavy, astringent and saccharine, titillating Sanji’s instincts. It would be so easy to take Alana, what with her playing the perfect victim and all.

Sanji moved fast, gripping Alana’s forearms tightly as she cried out in fright, her eyes clenching shut. “Just do it, you bastard,” Alana whispered, her voice trembling. Sanji let a few drops of spittle hit Alana’s neck and she made a sound that was close to a whimper before her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out, Alana’s head going limp.

Bored, Sanji let her go. He made sure to get as far away from Alana as he could, just in case his somewhat shaky self-control left him. He returned to her men. His stomach rumbled and Sanji hit up Ryan, who he’d torn apart, euphoria taking over him as he made sure nothing went to waste of his victim.

When he went dry, Sanji went to the downed blond man next, secretly pleased to find Will still alive. His back was injured, which meant he couldn’t get away. This one he did bite, Will moaning as Sanji greedily gulped down his blood. Thoughts of restraint and humanity were far from his mind, Sanji striking multiple times as he tried to draw more and more blood to the surface of Will’s skin.

Will’s breathing rose high for a moment, Sanji barely paying any mind as he fed. It was the sound and smell of another warm body entering the room that made him finally stop and raise his head. Will sighed softly beneath him, then went still, dropping into unconsciousness.  

Turning unhurriedly, Sanji smiled at his next victim, aware the man was speaking, but unable to hear the words. The buzzing inside his head was finally gone. It was just his own rapid heartbeat that was loud now, drowning everything else out. Sanji knew the newcomer couldn’t run, not when Sanji was faster than anything right now.

Inhuman strength surged in his body and he slammed the man against the wall, his jaw snapping at their neck, growling loudly when he was held off by a strong pair of arms. They tried to reason with him again, but Sanji couldn’t focus on the words, too eager to tear into a new blood supply.

They stubbornly kicked at his lower body and Sanji jumped back, holding an arm across it, remembering he’d been injured there earlier. Someone grunted in exasperation and Sanji picked up a note of steel before an arm was shoved against his mouth. The flesh was tender as anything else as he bit down, a low groan entering the air.

As his throat worked, Sanji realized he’d had this banquet before. He stopped drinking, pulling his fangs out, and stepped back as he raised a hand to the mouth. Zoro. Everything snapped back into horrifying focus and Sanji’s legs gave out on him as he fell to the floor.

“Are you back?” Zoro’s question took a while for Sanji to answer, having to pull the rest of his mind back together. He nodded mutely, the bodies in the room silent testaments to his crime. “You really did a number on these guys. I’m impressed, Cook.”

He’d murdered four men in cold blood, then drained nearly all of them to satisfy his ravenous hunger. Sanji felt sick. It’d been so easy. He felt more alive than he ever had in his whole life and he’d covered himself in blood to accomplish the feat. It wasn’t right.

“What did they do?” Sanji closed his eyes, trying not to recall the four days of utter hell. The way he’d had to sleep on the hard floor in a cold room, slowly going crazy from loneliness and bloodlust. His throat was tight and he had to clear it before speaking.

“Starved me.”

Zoro’s expression darkened and the hand against one of the hilts of his swords tightened. He surveyed Sanji’s work anew and smiled viciously. “Then they deserved it all and more.”

Alana gasped in the background and Zoro moved before Sanji could make a move to stop him.

“No, please.” Drawing on the strength he’d stolen from the thugs, Sanji sped to the kitchen to find Zoro had drawn a sword, holding it to Alana’s throat, her eyes huge and quickly filling with tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” It was a big change from the strong-willed woman who’d commanded her gang with a firm hand and a short amount of words.

“How dare you,” Zoro said, his voice as cold as the steel he wielded. “I was the one who attacked your gang before, not him.”

“That’s not why we too-“

“I don’t care,” Zoro snapped. “You and your thugs tortured him for no reason.” Alana looked to the floor, her tears slowly falling down her cheeks. Zoro leaned down over Alana, his free hand forcing her chin up so he could stare her down. “He’s a goddamn saint compared to you, even after killing your people.”

“Zoro, stop,” Sanji said, worried for Alana’s safety even with what she’d done to him. “I’m going to get pissed if you hurt her.”

Zoro scoffed, keeping his sword against Alana’s throat. “Really?”

“Yes.” Zoro sighed, then suddenly shifted his aim, slicing down Alana’s right cheek instead. He cut deep enough for it to scar, marring her natural beauty. Alana gasped in surprise, raising a hand to the wound in disbelief.

Sanji frowned, hitting Zoro’s shoulder from behind. “I told you th-“

Zoro sheathed his sword, his gaze dark as he turned to Sanji. “I don’t care what you want. Be happy that’s all I did to her.” He left the kitchen, leaving Sanji to stare at Alana. Soaked in her friends’ blood, he doubted was a comforting sight.

“Sorry, he’s…never mind.” Sanji left her sitting there on the kitchen floor, glad he was close to finally leaving the house. There was a squeak of rubber heeled shoes behind him and Alana raced out the front door, Sanji shaking his head when Zoro asked a silent question with his eyes. No, it wasn’t worth going after her.

Sanji grabbed a kitchen chair and plopped down in it, red dripping off his clothes. He took off his shirt with difficulty, blood and gore making things sticky, exposing his stomach. The bullet wound in his right side was obvious. “Zoro, I need your help with something.”

“Taking the bullet out?”

Sanji winced, knowing what was about to happen. “Yeah,” he replied. “I’m afraid if I leave it in any longer, I’ll heal around it.”

Zoro came to stand in front of him after grabbing a knife from the wooden block sitting on the kitchen counter. He knelt down, touching the edges of Sanji’s wound, his eyes steady. “It’s already half-healed,” Zoro said, peering up at Sanji. “I’m going to have to cut into it.”

Sanji sighed, giving Zoro a reluctant nod, his permission to proceed. Zoro didn’t give him any time to prepare himself, only sliced into Sanji’s flesh with precise movements. He bowed his head at the burning sensation, breathing a sigh of relief when Zoro put the kitchen knife down. Blood trickled down into the helm of his belt and pants.

“It’s not over yet.” Zoro shoved his fingers into the wound, groping around. Sanji’s eyes closed and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to sit still and endure it. Zoro suddenly stopped, peering at Sanji with interest. “Kills four men with his bare hands and can’t take a little pain?”

“Screw you, asshole.” His voice was thready, forehead wet with sweat.

“You wish,” Zoro said, going up on one knee, his mouth pressing against Sanji’s. Rather than question it, Sanji took the distraction the kiss offered, his hands rising to grip Zoro’s shoulders. He grunted in pain as Zoro dug his fingers into the wound further, but groaned at the feeling of another tongue thrusting against his own, his mouth opening slightly as Sanji began to pant.

He’d say this for Zoro, even distracted he knew how to kiss well and thoroughly at that. Even though part of Sanji felt vaguely nauseous, another part of his body stirred and started taking notice. Zoro’s questing hand dropped after a few minutes and he broke away, giving Sanji a heated look that said much, not the least of which was that he’d enjoyed the kiss though Sanji likely tasted of nothing but blood.                        

Zoro held the bullet up in front of Sanji’s face, his fingers covered in red. Sanji wondered if he was going to need to feed again. He hoped not. Sanji had had his fill and then some. He slouched back in the chair, Zoro tossing the spent bullet into the kitchen sink where it bounced a few times.

“You don’t want any of this?” Zoro asked, referring to his bloody fingers. Bile rose in the back of Sanji's throat at the suggestion. Never again.

“I can’t.”

Zoro’s forehead creased as he mulled that over. “You tried?”

“I did.” Sanji got to his feet, feeling tired despite all the blood he’d ingested. His adrenaline rush was long over. The bullet wound that had been so painful was already a dull ache that Sanji could ignore. Zoro washed his hands and then his face, Sanji slow to realize the smeared red streaks there had come from kissing him, before Zoro took a seat on one of the living room chairs, the dead bodies around him not fazing him at all.         

 “If you go back to the others like that, they’ll freak out,” Zoro said. Sanji silently agreed and went towards the back of the house, finding some extra clothes in one of the bedrooms. A little big on him, but they’d do.

The blood on Sanji’s skin was beginning to dry and crack and he stripped off the rest of his clothes, letting them drop to the floor. He took a moment to figure out the shower controls and got it running, going to stand under the spray of water. Sanji stared at the bottom of the bathtub, watching the red water run-off circle the drain. It took a while for it to turn clear.

He’d expected his stomach to be slightly distended from everything he’d eaten, but it was still flat, the gunshot wound on Sanji’s side nearly healed by the time he finished his shower. A vampire’s recuperative powers were impressive.

 “Kind of handy,” Sanji muttered to himself, drying off and slipping on the clothes he’d salvaged. The simple shirt and jeans hung loosely on him, but they were better than his own blood-soaked clothes. Nothing in his appearance suggested he’d spent the last four days held hostage. He looked downright healthy despite everything that had happened.  

The thought was sobering, as well as what Sanji had done in the last hour. He might have been defending himself, but he hadn’t meant to kill. The gang may have brought it on themselves, but if Sanji had better control, he would’ve been able to simply knock them out and leave.     

There was no escaping the fact he was a killer and that some part of him had enjoyed it. He knew if he was ever cornered, Sanji would have no compunction about doing it again.

Shaking his head, Sanji went back to the living room, where Zoro nodded in approval upon seeing him. He started for the front door.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Zoro declared before he walked through it, Sanji staring after him, finding the sentiment hard to believe.

Okay? Sanji was about as far away from okay as he could get.

_To Be Continued…_


	4. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji realizes he's not all right and Zoro does his best to help.

_A/N: I think of this as my junk box story. It’s one I always work on when I’m stuck on other projects (like 8-9 stories right now). Damn plot bunnies..._

[Written on and off from 4/21/18 to 5/16/18

Edited on 5/16/18]  
\-----------------------  
_**“Scarlet Fever”**_  
_Chapter 4: Darkness_

“Where is Sanji?” The question of the day. Well, make that a number of days.

Upon noticing his absence, the Straw Hat crew had peeled off, searching in different parts of the island. At the start of the fourth day of Sanji’s disappearance, Zoro happened to overhear a conversation at a bar. Some thugs bragging they’d snatched a wanted criminal.

“You’d think the blond idiot would’ve been harder to catch given his high bounty.”

“Too bad Alana won’t let us turn him in.”

“Did you see the way she lit up when I mentioned his fangs?”

“She wants something from him, that’s for sure.”

When the short thug and his companion left the bar, Zoro trailed them to a small house, staying far enough behind that he wasn’t noticed. He crept closer, watching the gang mill around within. If his suspicion was right, Sanji was in there somewhere. It took a while for Zoro to notice, but the gang’s faces were familiar.

He hadn’t really looked back then, too busy putting the bounty hunters down for the count. Zoro regretted not ending them in the alley when he had the chance. The woman was new to him though and she looked to be the one in charge.

Zoro was just about to slip into the house when movement and yelling caught his attention. It wasn’t clear what was going on until Sanji walked around a corner, blood splattered on his face and clothes. He didn’t look like himself, but by the same token, Sanji had never been out of control since becoming a vampire.

It’d been four days and they hadn’t done Sanji any good. The thing rampaging in the front room wore his face and body, but it was clear Sanji wasn’t mentally present. It reminded Zoro of sleepwalking. If sleepwalkers could tear into bodies like tissue paper and drink copious amounts of blood with no effort.

When Sanji was sitting on a blond man’s back, entirely focused on draining him dry, Zoro left the large front window of the house and opened the front door, stepping over the threshold quietly.

He suppressed a shudder when Sanji leisurely turned to regard him, no recognition whatsoever in his gaze. His entire front half was stained with blood with only his eyes unmarked. “Can you hear me, Cook?”

Sanji growled at him, gradually moving closer, keeping himself low to the ground. Defensive posture, bordering on the verge of aggressive. “That would be a no then. All right, let’s do this the hard way.”

Sanji moved in a flash and was suddenly on him, his teeth snapping loudly, Zoro barely able to hold him back. His strength was immense as if he was double Zoro’s size. It had happened before when Sanji had sent him flying on the Sunny’s deck during a fight.

“Wake up, will you?”

Zoro’s eyes seized on a section of torn clothing on Sanji’s side and he hoped for the best, striking the area with his foot. Sanji recoiled, leaping backward, an arm curving to protect the area. It was only a matter of time before Sanji overpowered him. Zoro refused to think beyond that point.

This wasn’t the state he’d expected to find Sanji in at all. Hungry, yeah, but he could usually determine right from wrong and hold himself back accordingly. Sanji was working off base instinct, which wouldn’t normally be a problem, but since his transformation, it was so much worse.

Wait. If blood had gotten Sanji into this, it could get him out. He’d never complained about Zoro’s after all. Shit, Zoro hoped he was right. If he was wrong…

He didn’t have time to finish the thought as Sanji charged him and Zoro flung an arm out, wincing as Sanji’s teeth met his skin. He bit down, starting to suck in earnest, and Zoro fought to keep his face steady as everything within him began melted, nerve endings ablaze all at once. That beautiful haze of pleasure was fast descending and Zoro knew he’d be useless once it fully hit him.

Sanji suddenly stopped, his gaze sharpening, awareness overcoming him. Horror too if Zoro was correct. The bite on his arm didn’t hurt and he watched it heal before his eyes as Sanji sank to the floor.

“Are you back?” The nod was slow, but at least Sanji wasn’t on the defensive anymore. He stared into nothing for a few minutes, Zoro leaving Sanji to gather himself up.

He noticed the blond man nearby was still breathing, walking to the corner where Sanji had almost ripped the head from someone’s shoulders. Blood splattered the wall behind the man, but there wasn’t much red dripping from the large open wound.

Zoro explored more of the house, stopping in front of a small cell-like room with thick steel walls, two bodies resting within on the floor. There was a toilet in the corner, yet little else.

The pieces in Zoro’s mind came together, his muscles tensing up at the wave of anger that washed over him. The depth of Sanji’s hunger made perfect sense, though the violence he’d instigated against his captors was startling. Zoro hadn’t known Sanji had it in him.

“You really did a number on these guys. I’m impressed, Cook.” Sanji looked vaguely sick, Zoro thinking he made throw up any minute. Zoro already knew, but he had to confirm it. “What did they do?”

There was a long silence before Sanji whispered, “Starved me.”

Those two words made Zoro instantly see red. If they’d just gone after Sanji for his bounty, that was understandable, but the fact they’d made it personal and used Sanji’s own nature against him was unforgivable. His mouth moved on its own, smiling. “Then they deserved it all and more.”  
\--------------------------  
The weight of his crewmates’ eyes on him was heavy. Chopper had already given Sanji a once-over, but he still looked worried, hovering nearby.

“I’m fine,” Sanji repeated for the fifth time. He was lying, of course. There was no way he would admit that the gang’s treatment had left an indelible mark. Luckily, there wasn’t a scratch on him that suggested otherwise.

He ignored Zoro’s doubtful look, going into the kitchen to get some breathing room. Sanji opened the fridge door, staring at the shelves of food, looking for something to provide a distraction. Sanji didn’t know how long he lingered there, the rush of cold air continually coating his face.

“Sanji-kun?” Straightening up, Sanji closed the fridge door, turning to see Nami inclined on the kitchen counter, her chest pressed against the edge of it.

“Nami-san, can I do something for you?” She leaned her chin on a hand, peering at him closely. Though Nami couldn’t have seen much through his body language alone, her eyes narrowed as if she’d seen right through Sanji’s nonchalant act.

“You could tell me the truth,” Nami said softly, Sanji fighting to keep his face still. Had he really been so transparent? “But I doubt you will. You’ve always been stronger than you look, and whatever you’re going through right now, I have no doubt you’ll get through it.”

She reached out and patted Sanji’s hand that was lying close by. “Just remember we’re here. If you need us,” Nami finished.

There was a lump in his throat and a sudden ache in Sanji’s chest. He was touched by Nami’s concern and no doubt the rest of the crew shared the same sentiment. Uncomfortable, Sanji looked down at the counter, scratching at an invisible stain on the edge of it.

“I just wanted you to know that.” His emotions under control, Sanji nodded mutely, Nami smiling at him as she straightened up. She paused before the door with her hand on the handle. “Whatever you’ve got going with Zoro…treat him well, all right?”

Sanji opened his mouth to reply and closed it, not sure what to say. He could mention it was a manner of life and death for him and he wasn’t doing it just for fun, but Sanji didn’t want to get into the particulars of his little problem.

“Okay,” he finally said, the amusement clear in Nami’s parting look as she left the room. Sanji slouched against the counter, frustrated with the way his thoughts swirled around unhelpfully, disturbing his peace of mind.  
\---------------------  
Whenever things weighed heavily on him, Sanji went back to what he did best: cooking. There was something about the hands-on process that never failed to engage his senses and as he grabbed two whole chickens from the fridge and laid them on the cutting board, the tautness in Sanji’s shoulders eased and a small smile curved his lips.

With practiced ease, he took a serrated knife and cut down one side of the chicken’s backbone before he tackled the other side as well, removing the whole section of the spine. The carcass was close to lying flat, but not without further help. Sanji laid his hand over the chicken and applied pressure, the loud crack reminiscent of another scene.

He was suddenly back in that house, digging his fingers into thick human flesh, breaking through muscle and bone with considerable ease. Severing the spine with a quick twist of his hands, blood running down Sanji’s arms, soaking his clothes. It wasn’t difficult really. Humans were just another type of animal and he was used to dismantling them. It was his job after all.

Sanji pushed the still twitching body back against the wall, a large crack appearing behind it. His grip was beginning to grow slippery from handling the wet internal parts and Sanji retreated, dropping his hands, the small of his back hitting the kitchen table behind him.

He whirled, startled at the contact and abrupt scenery change, someone panting loudly. Sanji closed his mouth and the sound stopped. Sweat ran down his brow and he realized he was trembling.

When he looked at the chicken on the counter, it was covered in garish red blood and Sanji squeezed his eyes shut, telling himself he was just imagining things. When he looked again, the cutting board would be clear of any viscera. It had to be. Sanji went to bite his lower lip and winced at the feel of his fangs.

“Shit,” he whispered, mentally crossing his fingers as he raised his eyelids. Except for the two chickens, the counter was clean. With shaking hands, Sanji took a seat and tried to relax, willing his teeth to go back to normal. Willing his problem to shut up and go away. It took longer than he wanted, going through two whole cigarettes, and he approached the cutting board with dread churning in his gut.

It wasn’t fair.

Cooking was supposed to be his escape and now Sanji didn’t even have that. He raced through the rest of the butterflying steps, cringing at the sound of breaking bone, beyond glad when the two chickens rested atop a sheet pan, well-oiled and seasoned.

Sanji slid it into the waiting hot oven and sighed. He hoped his freak out had been a one-time thing and not a symptom of an ongoing issue. He already had enough to worry about as is.  
\-----------------------  
_The deck was mercifully empty but for the man napping nearby, his chin down on his chest as he ever so slightly snored. Zoro had perfect timing. Sanji quietly approached him, going to his knees once he was close enough._

_He didn’t give a warning as he struck, tearing into Zoro’s neck, holding his head to the side and one shoulder down. Hot sweet blood exploded in his mouth and Sanji was lost in rapture, so desperately thirsty, he couldn’t contain himself._

_Zoro had gone stiff under him, making grunting noises as he feebly pushed at Sanji’s chest. He’d have to try harder than that. Sanji redoubled his strength, digging in fingernails roughly, holding Zoro’s neck at a painful angle._

_That he was hurting his crewmate didn’t enter his mind, not so long as the blood kept flowing. He twitched minutely underneath Sanji, moaning low in his throat. Sanji left the initial bite, piercing Zoro’s neck again, the man under him groaning loudly._

_Shit, couldn’t he keep it down? The ache in his gut started to ease, Sanji slowing down, but refusing to stop. If he took enough blood, he could go longer between feedings. He pushed Zoro into the wall, seeing Zoro’s hands go slack and hang at his sides. Good, less of a bother that way._

_There were too many flavor notes for Sanji to process, the blood hitting all the right taste buds and then some. Sanji pulled back, then dived into Zoro’s flesh again, ripping his holes wider, greedily licking whatever red tried to escape him._

_He straddled Zoro’s waist, both arms locked over Zoro’s shoulders, his hips moving forward, stimulating his own inflamed member, barely feeling Zoro’s own. When he felt like his stomach was full, Sanji continued drawing blood, using it as an excuse to get off. When the climax did come, he nearly blacked out, jerking back from Zoro to roar his pleasure._

_The world had exploded into color, everything so bright it hurt Sanji’s eyes. The rocking of the ship was thunderous, Sanji having to cover his ears to block it out. He could smell the salt in the air, the heavy ozone that threatened to blacken the sky in a coming storm. It was too much to process at once._

_“This is amazing,” he said, getting up, enraptured as a wave of heat swept over him. “Zoro, you’ve gotta see this.” The bastard wasn’t answering him._

_Sanji glanced down at the figure slouched limply on the deck, deep red furrows splashed on his neck, near slicing it in two. Zoro’s eye was open, staring ahead endlessly, but seeing nothing._

_“Zoro?” he whispered, his voice cracking. He didn’t stir at all. His enhanced senses went dull, the world bleak as Sanji realized he’d done something inexcusable._

_No, this couldn’t be real. “Stop playing around, asshole. It’s not funny.” He poked Zoro in the arm, recoiling at the feel of cold flesh. He couldn’t deny the hard evidence in front of him._

_Zoro was dead and it was all his fault. He knew he should do something besides stand there, but Sanji couldn’t move, his legs like lead._

_“Sanji, where’s breakfast?” His heart sank in his chest and Sanji closed his eyes while Luffy took in the scene. He didn’t want to see his captain lose his easygoing smile or the look on his face when he noticed the blood on Sanji’s mouth. It was incriminating as hell, yet he wouldn’t deny his part in the incident._

_Luffy’s silence was maddening, Sanji’s hands shaking nervously at his sides. He jumped when fingers touched the rapidly drying blood on his chin, cracking open an eye to see Luffy staring intently at his red fingers, his expression blank._

_When Luffy finally looked up at him, his eyes were cold, fury buried in their depths._  
_“What did you do?!” Luffy roared, pulling back his arm, stretching it out behind him before his arm coiled back, blood vessels bulging. The purported strength behind the blow was frightening._

“I didn’t mean to!” Pain slammed into his shoulder as Sanji rolled out of the bed, trying to brace himself for an impact that was never going to come. His brain snapped back, the dream slowly dissipating, his surroundings shifting into focus.

Sanji felt his mouth, the lack of flesh blood heartening. A damn dream. His heart was still hammering away as his crewmates stirred around him.

“What’s going on?” Luffy asked blearily.

“Nothing,” Sanji replied quickly. “Absolutely nothing.”

He took the dream as a sign he needed to work on his self-control sooner rather later. Disquieting though was the fact Sanji’s fangs had slipped out, which meant he’d enjoyed cutting loose, the consequences of doing so be damned.

Movement captured his attention near him as Luffy hugged him, still half asleep. He leaned back, patting Sanji’s head soothingly. “Dreams aren’t real.”

With that pearl of wisdom, Luffy let him go, crawling back into his bed where he dropped off immediately. Sanji smiled as he did the same, beyond grateful for the show of comfort that had been provided unknowingly.  
\---------------------------  
He’d been able to put it off for two and a half weeks, but the anxious ravenous feeling could no longer be denied. Sanji’s reserves were empty, which only meant one thing.

Silently, he crept out of his bed, making his way to the main deck. Zoro was on night watch so Sanji didn’t have to worry about prying eyes. Not that he wanted to do this, no matter how good it felt.

His hands faltered before the ladder in front of him for a moment and Sanji had to shake it off his reluctance. Sanji refused to whinge about his issues like a pathetic loser. He said nothing as he crawled up into the crow’s nest, just gazed at Zoro until he raised a hand and crooked his finger.

Zoro blew out a breath but followed in his wake without comment. They entered the kitchen and as Zoro took a seat at the table, Sanji walked further into the room and retrieved a single empty glass and a ceramic knife.

“What is this?” Zoro asked when Sanji placed them on the table. The blade of the knife caught the overhead light as if highlighting its own importance.

“It’s an experiment,” replied Sanji shortly, hiding his less-than-steady hands underneath the table. “Just go with it.”

“Are you sure this is all you want?” The double meaning wasn’t lost on Sanji and he nodded, pushing the empty glass closer to Zoro. “Is this because of…?”

“No, it’s not,” Sanji said defensively, narrowing his eyes, looking at the kitchen knife pointedly. The longer they talked about it, the more Sanji wanted it over with. He didn’t trust himself to bite Zoro, not after that damn dream.

“You don’t even know if that'll work.”

“I want it to,” Sanji responded testily. He’d never desired anything as much in his life.

Zoro looked like he had more to say on the matter, but kept his mouth shut. He grabbed the knife, slicing across his forearm with it. He turned his arm over and held it over the glass while Sanji tried his best to ignore the sharp scent of blood and his elevated pulse.

Once the glass was halfway full, Zoro lifted his arm and pressed a hand against the wound, applying pressure. He peered at Sanji with interest as Sanji grabbed the glass with a shaky hand. The last time he’d tried this with animal blood, it hadn’t ended well.

As the rim touched his lips, Sanji closed his eyes. It was fresh human blood, but as soon as it touched his tongue, Sanji choked. He spit the blood back into the glass and felt like crying. In theory, it should have worked. Perhaps it was missing the most vital ingredient: a warm live body.

He hurled the glass against the wall in fury and frustration. Blood splattered everywhere as well as shards of glass. _I’ll have to clean it up later on,_ Sanji thought idly.

“That was stupid,” Zoro said, standing up from the table. He came to linger next to Sanji’s chair and uncovered the cut on his forearm. Sanji’s throat grew tight as Zoro thrust his arm out, his eyes hard and the offer clear.

“No,” Sanji whispered, riveted at the sight of the wound as it started to bleed anew.

“Yes,” Zoro insisted, grabbing the back of Sanji’s head, forcing his mouth to the cut. All the fight went out of Sanji when the blood filled his mouth, his senses suddenly alight. His hands shot up to grasp Zoro’s arm, swallowing before he bit down, claiming what was his.  
\----------------------------  
Zoro’s breath went shaky, his fingers tightening in Sanji’s hair. He always tried to prepare for the bite and it always knocked him off his feet. The cascade of pleasure hit him like a physical blow as if someone had spent hours leisurely working over his body with limitless patience and boundless enthusiasm.

From cold to hot in the space of a second. Every inch of skin tingled with Sanji’s mouth at the epicenter. From his teeth came liquid euphoria, spreading to Zoro’s nerve endings, lighting them up like mini bonfires. The sensations washed over him like waves, slowly eroding his careful self-control. He could hear himself start to moan and inwardly cursed, his free hand forming a tight fist at his side.

The first time Sanji had fed on him, Zoro had been gobsmacked, too surprised to offer any kind of resistance, and too anxious to find release. The second time, he was determined to enjoy it. Make a proper event of the experience.

That Sanji had played along had been an unexpected bonus. Kissing him at the end of it had been spontaneous, a mad little impulse he’d heeded because Zoro had wanted to see what Sanji would do.

The third time was quick, just something to wake Sanji up, but now both of them knew the score and despite Sanji’s obvious trauma, Zoro knew if he didn’t feed, things could go from bad to worse in an instant. It was better to anticipate Sanji’s needs than try to ignore them.

Fire burned in his gut, thought slowly ebbing away, and Zoro locked his knees, panting. He glanced at Sanji and the rapture left him for a moment when he took in crewmate’s appearance. His eyes were shut, wetness gathering in the corners. He was shaking in the kitchen chair, Sanji moaning low in his throat.

When Sanji’s grip grew tight enough to bruise Zoro’s arm and his teeth pierced deeper, Zoro shuddered, even as part of him realized something was wrong. He had never gotten aggressive with Zoro before.

Sanji began growling, his shoulders hunching. Through a thick haze of elation, Zoro could see part of the cook’s spine ripple outwards, stretching Sanji’s skin. Zoro didn’t know what it meant but knew he had to do something before it grew worse. At a loss, Zoro did the first thing that popped up in his head.

He pulled out Sanji’s chair with his free arm, then straddled the cook’s lap, taking a firm grip on Sanji’s back, disturbed by the hard thick ridges he felt along Sanji’s backbone. Zoro leaned forward, as close to hugging Sanji as he could get. His forehead pressed against Sanji’s and he ignored the harsh sounds that continually fell from Sanji’s lips as he continued feeding.

“It’s okay,” Zoro said softly. “I’m right here.”

Sanji went rigid, seeming shocked by the sound of Zoro’s voice, slowly opening his strange dark eyes, clearly struggling to return to himself. With a sound that could have been a sob, tears ran down Sanji’s cheeks. The line of his spine softened underneath Zoro’s fingers, returning to normal, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief. The transformation had stopped.

Watching him curiously, Sanji started again, Zoro grunting, almost writhing on Sanji’s lap as desire seared his entire body, the carnality of the act striking right where it counted with every beat of Zoro’s heart. It was unfair that it was only Sanji’s mouth at work when Zoro could feel heat and tingling everywhere on his body.

“Goddamn…it.” Zoro’s head bowed, struggling to breathe evenly, eventually resting it against Sanji’s shoulder and neck. Though he was sweating and shivering, Sanji’s skin was cool, a balm that gave Zoro a split second of relief, enough time to notice how far gone he was.

“I’m close,” he whispered, Sanji pulling even harder, the tension in Zoro’s gut coiling tighter and tighter. He went to draw in a ragged breath and groaned loudly instead, body seizing with his release, digging his fingers into Sanji’s back.

He was breathing heavily when Sanji released his arm, bringing his head up and catching Zoro’s mouth with his own. The taste of his own blood didn’t bother him, Zoro had grown accustomed to it after so many hard fought battles. It was salty and coopery and soon Zoro didn’t notice it, too busy sweeping his tongue against Sanji’s, dragging it over lips, carefully avoiding his sharp fangs.

Without his body held hostage by the vampire bite, Zoro leaned closer and tilted his head, getting a better angle, plunging deeper into Sanji’s mouth. He clutched tightly at Sanji’s neck, moving his hand up slowly until Zoro’s thumb slipped against the inside of Sanji’s cheek, the wet heat that seeped into it pleasant, Zoro’s lower half beginning to twitch again.

With a line of saliva dripping down his chin, Sanji broke away, giving a single sharp moan, his eyes nearly squeezed shut. While Sanji recovered, Zoro used a few fingers to wipe away the lingering wetness on Sanji’s cheeks.

“You need to be careful,” he informed quietly. “You’re not…quite right.”

Sanji blinked at him for a moment, then his brow creased. “What the hell are you talking about?” Ah, shit, he’d taken it the wrong way. As an insult rather than the warning Zoro had meant.

He ran a hand down Sanji’s back, the latter jerking slightly at the touch. “When you were out of it, this started to change.”

“Bullshit.” The immediate cold response brooked no argument, but the look of brief fear in Sanji’s gaze said otherwise.

Sighing, Zoro stood up and left Sanji where he sat, wishing he hadn’t spoiled the mood with what he considered justifiable concern. He wondered if Sanji was truly aware of the precipice he stood on or if he was going to remain blissfully ignorant. If it was the latter, Zoro had his work cut out of him.

_To Be Continued..._


	5. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoro and Sanji grow a little closer.

_A/N: I swear this story just does what it wants with little to no input from me despite the fact I’m writing it. Yay automatic writing?_   _Anyway, enjoy the extremely early update!_

[Written on and off between 5/2/18 to 6/2/18]

\--------------------

**_Chapter 5: Confession_ **

As hard as he tried, while changing clothes, Sanji couldn’t get Zoro’s words out of his head. What the hell did he mean by ‘not right?’ True, he’d lost the plot for the space of a few minutes, but he hadn’t felt anything strange during the whole experience. If anything, Sanji was finding it easier to accept his new nature. It wasn’t all bad despite the thirst that drove him to Zoro twice a week.

He felt the back of his neck, spreading his fingers out further down the line of his spine, finding nothing out of place. Maybe Zoro was just imagining things. Sanji looked at the bloody mess on the wall and retrieved a dish towel, wetting it before he knelt down on the floor. He picked up the biggest shards of glass, tossing them into the trash can, then wiped the area down, catching any tiny slivers of glass that had escaped his initial clutches.

While he scrubbed at the red patches on the wall itself, Sanji wondered if he could have done this task so calmly a few weeks ago. He was still touch and go some of the time but had largely processed his spat of captivity.

It was mostly being closed in with no visible escape route in sight and butchering animals that made things difficult. Otherwise, Sanji deftly avoided the subject whenever it came up, and his friends didn’t push the issue.

Only Zoro seemed unwilling to ignore it, which made the fact Sanji was dependent on him all the more galling. He could still feel the soft touch of Zoro’s forehead against his own, his warm body snugly nestled against Sanji’s. It had been that physical touch more than Zoro’s voice that had drawn Sanji back from the edge.

His hand around the sponge compressed tightly and Sanji watched the pinkish tinged water sluggishly run down the wall. Loathe as he was to admit it, it wasn’t just Zoro’s blood that he wanted. It was the man itself. Coming to grips with that knowledge, more than anything else, had caused Sanji no small amount of grief.

Carmilla had confirmed some of it was due to his vampire nature, but there had always been a rivalry between him and Zoro. Conceivably, some of that tension could have been sexual though Sanji hadn’t been aware of it. While he rinsed out the sponge in the kitchen sink, Sanji wondered if Zoro had always been open to that kind of relationship. It would explain a few things.

The incessant needling, the refusal to back down from a fight. Like a little kid who didn’t know what to do around someone they liked, so they blindly lashed out instead.

“What is this, a damn playground?”

With the stain mostly gone, Sanji swept the entirety of the kitchen floor, making sure nothing had remained of his brief fit of fury. After emptying the dustpan into the trash can and putting it away, Sanji strolled out onto the main deck, going back to the men’s quarters. He paused, looking up at the crow’s nest, a single light bathing one of the windows.

He didn’t know where he’d be without Zoro. The debt Sanji owed him kept growing larger, and Sanji wasn’t sure if he could ever pay him back properly.          

\-----------------------

He couldn’t sleep. Sanji tossed and turned in his bed, finally staring at the bunk above him, Usopp’s loud snoring his only soundtrack. The longer he looked, the more Sanji realized that he was starting to sweat, the four sides of the bed around him closing in slowly. Despite trying to remind himself that it was just an illusion, Sanji couldn’t help feeling like he was trapped. Again.

When there was something to do or when he was with someone else, he was fine. But now alone in his own head with nothing to distract him, anxiety took a full hold and refused to let go.   

Sanji bolted upright, taking his pillow and blanket with him as he left the sleeping quarters. He climbed up the ladder to the crow’s nest, then threw open as many windows as he could. He breathed in the fresh night air and felt a little better. It was colder, but Sanji didn’t care.

He delved deep under the covers and was close to dropping off to sleep when footsteps next to him woke him. Sanji tiredly raised his head to see Zoro standing over him. “What do you want?”

Zoro sat down on the floor, eye level with Sanji who was laying on the bench. “I’m curious why you’re up here.” Being the only one who knew what he had been through, Sanji didn’t want to shrug off Zoro’s concern. He was also the only one Sanji could talk to about it.

“The bunk reminded me too much of the cooler,” he admitted, understanding crossing Zoro’s face.

“So you’re running away from it?”

Sanji sat up, the blanket falling down into his lap. He heard himself laughing bitterly and had to force himself to stop. “Have you ever seen me run from anything?”

“Still not answering my question,” Zoro replied, an air of impatience in his voice.

“Then ask a better one.” Sanji jumped when Zoro grabbed his arms, pulling Sanji into his lap. His back was flush against the bench wall as Sanji leaned back, finding the eye contact almost too much.

“Okay, I’ll try again.” Sanji shifted in discomfort. There was nowhere to run and that was enough to make him nervous. Zoro’s fingers teased his palms and Sanji looked down at them. “Do you still see blood on your hands?”

Zoro couldn’t have struck a deeper blow if he’d tried. Trying not to let it show and knowing he was failing, tension tightened Sanji’s shoulders and neck. “You knew that it was either you or them. Why feel guilty about it?”

“Because it wasn’t a fair fight,” Sanji shot back, not realizing he’d said it out loud until Zoro tilted his head like he was examining some rare bird. He thought about how hot and sweet their blood had been on his tongue, how easy it had been to overpower them, and shuddered. Not in revulsion, but in excitement. “I was a force of nature.”

Sanji pressed a hand to Zoro’s neck, pressing closer, his inner predator stirring. “And I loved every single goddamn second of it,” he confessed, Zoro's mouth only a few inches away from his own.

Zoro smiled, tugging Sanji closer. “Welcome to my world.”

It wasn’t so much a kiss as a rough meeting of mouths, Zoro biting his lower lip before sucking it into his mouth, Sanji’s breath rising high in response. He freed his other hand from Zoro’s, placing both of them against Zoro’s back, straddling his waist completely. Close enough to feel a rising hardness that echoed his own.

Sanji wasn’t even hungry but felt his fangs descend, Zoro relenting for a moment. “Can you do something about those?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my control isn’t the best,” Sanji bit off irritated, trying his best to reel them back in. Zoro started to raise a finger to one of his fangs, Sanji recoiling instinctually before Zoro even got close enough to touch them.

“Don’t do that.” Zoro dropped his hand, looking concerned. Sanji repressed the memory of Alana’s smile with effort, looking around the crow’s nest to remind himself he wasn’t back in that house. In a cold steel room. Not anymore.     

“Okay,” came Zoro’s quiet reply. Sanji leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He’d fed the night before so hunger wasn’t a problem. He took a deep breath, picturing his mouth as it normally was, two straight rows of white teeth. Human ones.

“Wanna hear something interesting?” Zoro asked, Sanji looking at him in annoyance, his concentration shot. “Until now, I didn’t get to see your fangs up close. The very tips of them are hollow. Why?”

Sanji scratched at his chin, intrigued with Zoro’s observation. As always, he wished he knew more about his condition. “I’m not sure.” He'd have to ask Carmilla about it. 

“Whose control isn’t the best?” Zoro questioned, running a thumb across the front of Sanji’s mouth, now thoroughly defanged. Moving slightly, Sanji took it into his mouth, playfully biting, a rising heat in Zoro’s eyes before he captured Sanji’s mouth again.

Zoro’s fingers caught the back of his hair as Sanji pushed his tongue against Zoro’s, nerve endings coming awake, pulsing down to his stomach, making things that much more wound up.   

 “This isn’t about hunger, is it?” Zoro asked as he pulled back, a millimeter between his mouth and Sanji’s. A low rumbling growl worked its way of Sanji’s throat and Zoro’s expression went from ardent to worry. Amused, Sanji grinned, showing off perfectly normal teeth, that he was in full control.

“It is, but it’s a completely different one.” Sanji pushed at Zoro’s chest. “Back up.” His brow crinkled, but Zoro scooted back about three inches, giving Sanji the room he wanted. “That’s good.”

He kissed the side of Zoro’s neck, for once not interested in what laid beneath, pumping away in his veins. His fine palate picked up salt from Zoro’s sweat, the flat scent of metal, and some kind of wooden scent that likely came from napping on the deck all the time. Zoro shivered against him, Sanji shifting his mouth downward, pausing at a nipple.

His tongue flicked out experimentally and Zoro started, his breath gushing out all at once. Sanji grazed it with his teeth, a groan escaping Zoro, Sanji smiling before bypassing the section of chest, his hands curling in the edge of Zoro’s pants. “You’re not…”

The disbelieving tone of voice tickled Sanji and he chuckled to himself. He tightened his grip, grabbing what felt like boxers along with the loose pants, Sanji pulling them down. He’d felt it before, but seeing it was different.

Everything was suddenly more real. Sanji had looked at his own enough to know Zoro was bigger and he was definitely up for whatever Sanji had in mind. That much was beyond clear.

Sanji looked up at Zoro. “Do you trust me?”

Zoro spent a few minutes staring at him, utterly silent, making Sanji nervous. Finally, one corner of his mouth quirked up and Zoro patted the top of Sanji’s head before his hand slid down to cup his cheek. “If I didn’t, would I be here?”

The warmth of Zoro’s fingers slowly seeped into his face and Sanji shook them off, uneasy with the intimate gesture. “Good to know,” Sanji retorted, sliding a digit up the base of Zoro’s cock to the very tip, his crewmate jerking, his eyes fluttering as he did so. There was already liquid leaking from the tip and Sanji brought his wet finger to his mouth, brushing it against his tongue.

It was unexpectedly tangy, a bit salty, but not too bad overall. Maybe he could actually do this. The expression Sanji caught on Zoro’s face was halfway between shock and wanton need, making his throat go dry as a shiver ran down his spine. He’d never seen Zoro look at him that way before, Sanji suddenly aware he was close to crossing an invisible line and there was no way of returning once he had.

Smiling lightly to hide his reaction, Sanji grabbed Zoro’s cock with both hands gently, shifting up and down, amused at the redness that crept up into Zoro’s face as he groaned, tightly gripping Sanji’s shoulders, fingers convulsing against his skin.

Every tiny movement Sanji made was a wave that broke on Zoro’s body and somewhere in between worrying about making a wrong move and going past his comfort zone, Sanji stopped caring. He leaned down, taking Zoro’s cock into his mouth, heartened by the moan that sounded above him. Slowly, he used his tongue, sweeping it over the head of Zoro’s cock and beyond, only pausing when his mouth was full, and then backing off.

Zoro made strangled gasping noises, his head hanging down between them, only raising it when Sanji finally retreated, wiping at his mouth. “I wonder how you’d react if I bit you down there.”

The comment was meant as a joke. Zoro’s reaction was anything but. His eyes clenched shut and his hips juddered, the climax fast and immediate. The resulting fluid narrowly missed Sanji’s face, and he stared at Zoro for a long moment, trying to think of something to say.

The hand on Sanji’s shoulder loosened as Zoro panted, his gaze wild. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Okay,” Sanji whispered, sitting up. Zoro suddenly yanked him forward by the arm, Sanji caught off guard by the hand that crawled down his pants, gripping his cock. Where Sanji had been slow and hesitant, Zoro was steady and sure, his fingers more talented than Sanji remembered.

Zoro leaned over him and kissed him, Sanji fighting for breath, afraid he’d start whimpering any moment. “Zo-“ The name was cut off as Zoro worked his mouth across Sanji’s face, past his cheeks, down his chin, and pausing at the side of Sanji’s neck.

His breath catching in his throat, Sanji trembled, afraid and thrilled all at once. “Wait,” Sanji whispered softly. “Don’t do i-“

Zoro ignored him, biting into Sanji’s neck. Part of Sanji intensely gratified at the action, adrenaline rushing throughout his body, taking pleasure in every single tooth that dug into his skin. In the careful control Zoro exerted as one thin bloody line ran down Sanji’s chest.

Even though it was his own blood, Sanji still reacted to the light weight of it, the feel as it clung to his flesh. The searing heat and the heavy copper scent that made him lightheaded.

Between that and Zoro’s hand on his cock, he didn’t last long, crying out under Zoro’s ever-so-careful bite and grip within a matter of minutes. He panted, Sanji hanging limply in Zoro’s arms, something in him fiercely pleased with the blood that shone on Zoro’s mouth.

“Now you know what it feels like,” Zoro said with amusement. Sanji peered at him before he started laughing, a soft quiet thing that built until it was a full-blown fit.

As soon as he could draw in a full breath, Sanji sighed, glancing at Zoro. “I’m not kissing you again until you wipe that off.” Zoro narrowed his eyes, aware of the hypocrisy, but used the back of his shirt sleeve to clean his mouth off.

“Also, I’m going to be wearing your bite far longer than you usually wear mine.” Zoro rolled his eyes, retrieving his hand, wiping off the mess with a nearby tissue from a box underneath one of the windows.

Sanji lounged against Zoro’s chest, his knees too unsteady to stand up yet. Goddammit. What gave Zoro the right to do all that? He put a hand to his neck, pulling it back to see there really wasn’t that much blood. No fangs after all.

Zoro awkwardly put his clothes back on, shifting Sanji to his side, looking down when Sanji asked, “It didn’t taste bad?”

He looked at Sanji, meeting his gaze curiously. “It’s all the same to me, Cook. I don’t have your refined taste.” Sanji yawned, his lack of sleep catching up to him. Not tempted to move in the slightest.  

 “Good,” he said, his eyes closing on their own accord. “Because then we’d really have problems.” Sanji felt Zoro’s arm press him closer, then dropped off into oblivion, secure in the knowledge he wasn’t alone.

\----------------------

“Hey.” Sanji didn’t respond when Zoro jostled him, and he frowned, unsure what to do. With the cook’s head hanging down, the imprint of Zoro’s teeth shone clear on his neck. It had stopped bleeding and Zoro watched, intrigued as the wound gradually knitted together, eventually leaving only the blood trail behind in its wake.

Biting Sanji had been an illuminating experience in more ways than one. Zoro hadn’t anticipated the near-violent reaction but damned if it hadn’t worked in his favor. It had been a heady thing, holding that much power over Sanji. Zoro would have to keep such a move in mind in future encounters.     

Zoro put his other arm under Sanji’s knees, holding him as he slowly stood up. Sanji was heavier than he looked, Zoro grunting underneath his breath as he made the short walk to the bench. Laying Sanji out on his back, Zoro leaned over him, unbuttoning his shirt. Only a few spots here and there were stained red, most of the mess around Sanji’s upper chest and collarbone.

Asleep, Sanji looked more peaceful than he had in the last two weeks. He hadn’t been hiding his anxiety nearly as well as he thought, his struggle to maintain normalcy clear. It hurt to watch Sanji tiptoe around his issues rather than face them head-on. Still, Zoro thought they’d made a little progress in the right direction.

He wiped the blood off Sanji with the end of his shirt, Zoro careful not to press too hard. Leaning down, he grabbed the blanket off the floor and spread it over Sanji, tucking it under his chin. He lingered there for a moment, reluctant to leave. What if he had a nightmare?

“This is stupid,” Zoro said quietly, annoyed at himself. He finally turned away, aware that he couldn’t protect Sanji from his own mind. Zoro closed all but one of the crow’s nest windows, then climbed down to the main deck, Franky waving at him.

“All good?” he asked, Zoro nodding in return.

“Super.”

\-----------------------

_“Sanji-kun?” When he looked in the direction of the familiar voice, brilliant red hair caught the sun’s rays and Carmilla’s smile was beauteous as she grabbed Sanji’s arm, pulling him down a side street amidst a colorful parade. Costumes and masks swam in and out of his vision as the pair navigated away from the massive throng of people._

_“What are you doing here?” Sanji asked, finding it hard to look away from her. It had been a while and he took his time ogling her._

_“I sensed you nearby and couldn’t help myself.”_

_“Is that why you haven’t been appearing in my dreams lately?” Carmilla nodded, her fingers moving down Sanji’s arm until she grasped his hand, squeezing it lightly._

_“The further apart we are, the less influence I have in this realm.” She headed to a café across the road and within seconds, sat Sanji down at a table, sitting across from him. Carmilla examined him closely before frowning._

_“Something has marked you. What happened?” As if summoned by the simple question, the memories rose afresh in his mind. Sanji’s hand shook on the edge of the table and without meaning to, he started spilling the whole story, Carmilla listening silently._

_Halfway through, she rose from her seat and sat down on Sanji’s lap, pulling his head against her chest. Something wet touched his hair and Sanji realized Carmilla was crying. He finished recounting his experience after a bit of hesitation, Carmilla quiet afterward._

_“I’m sorry.” There was no judgment, no blame in her soft voice. Just empathy and mute acceptance. Carmilla had likely done worse in her lifetime. Sanji tightened his arms around her, closing his eyes, grateful for the comfort._

_He wasn’t sure how long they remained that way, but eventually Carmilla slipped off his lap, wiping at her face. When she took her former seat, only a tiny bit of redness betrayed the fact she’d shed tears. “Is it always like that? Killing…I don’t want to do it again, yet the rush was substantial.”_

_Carmilla’s gaze blazed darkly for a moment. “It can be addictive. There’s genuine delight to be had there.” A small smile gathered on her lips as if recalling something pleasant. “If such a thing happens again, please remember that I prefer you alive over dead.”_

_Sanji had to smile, then stroked his chin in thought. “There’s something else,” Sanji said, Carmilla inclining her head, showing she was listening.  “Zoro said my spine changed during a feeding.”_

_“The more you mature, the more powerful you become. Shapeshifting comes with the territory. You’d be surprised what you can twist yourself into should the need arise.” There was something off about Carmilla’s behavior, but Sanji couldn’t put his finger on it. She was still radiant and confident, her body language open and friendly._

_“Another thing he said…”_

_Carmilla lightly sighed as she turned to take two cups from the server’s tray when they stopped next to the table, though they’d never ordered. Maybe she’d been craving something and, of course, dream logic stepped in, fulfilling her request. “Zoro again?”_

_“Yes,” Sanji said with uncertainty, wondering why she was acting so strange all of the sudden. Carmilla pushed the cup of tea towards Sanji, then wrapped both hands around her own, seeming to enjoy its warmth._

_“What did you want to ask?” There was a certain coolness in Carmilla’s voice, her eyes still warm and inviting, but distant._

_“The tips of our fangs, why are they hollow?” Interest lit up Carmilla’s face, perhaps because Sanji hadn’t shied away from referring to them as the same._

_“Some time ago, I became acquainted with a doctor who after realizing what I was made a thorough study of our kind. I spurred her interest on, even providing some specimens when she asked for them. The dissections revealed much, including the fact that when our hunger is at its peak, we release a stimulant that streamlines the feeding process, making it a pleasurable experience for both parties._

_“It also serves as a defense mechanism. A highly effective one at that because hardly anyone is going to be thinking about fighting back when distracted by their baser instincts.”_

_“So it’s an aphrodisiac,” Sanji clarified, not sure how to feel about the information. The questionable consent issue was problematic. Zoro didn’t seem to mind, but Sanji was glad he hadn’t fed on anyone unsuspecting of his true nature._

_“Well, yes, it is, but one that heals the donor as well,” Carmilla said, looking puzzled that Sanji took issue with mere facts. “Once upon a time, we didn’t even have that.”_

_“What do you mean?” Sanji leaned forward, his cup of tea completely forgotten, fascinated with the knowledge Carmilla had to share._

_“The first vampires, our progenitors, were abominations of nature and every meal was hard-won. They managed to survive to propagate by the skin of their teeth, and the next generation of vampires developed finer attributes until we could eventually blend seamlessly into human society.”_

_Sanji fingered the handle of his cup, narrowing his eyes. “How old are you really?”_

_Carmilla pursed her lips, peering at Sanji at length before she spoke again. “I’ve been in this world for over 500 years. I was human for 29 of them a long time ago.”_

_Her expression shifted to melancholic, idly stirring the spoon in her cup. “Throughout that time, I’ve met exactly three other vampires, one of them my own maker. We’re a remarkably scarce breed, which is why I keep reaching out for you.”_

_Carmilla put a hand atop Sanji’s. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to with like-minded interests,” she said fondly. “I value that very highly.”_

_“Am I ever going to see you in person again?” Sanji asked, turning his hand over under Carmilla’s, his fingers caressing the soft skin of her wrist. Any way he looked at it, she was remarkably well-preserved for her age._

_“Just try and keep me away.”_

**_To Be Continued…_ **


End file.
